Thursday, July 20, 2006

Old Dog

In a single remark, without malice, he reminds me
I am no longer young; my words can no longer seduce.
I am an old dog, lying quietly, refusing to chase cars;
and by this I am judged.

For every love he has dreamed, I have lived seven.
But what use are the stars when my eyesight has failed?
My friend’s years are marked by candles in a cake;
mine - by faces of lovers forever gone by.

To potential mates he brings wilting flowers for a vase
or scented candles for their kitchen counter.
He does not know, to their hearts, I once brought fire;
and even recklessly brought despair.

Has he seen them tremble when their trust has been betrayed?
Does he know the pain to see them in another’s embrace?
Will he sacrifice everything for them just to win nothing?
Could he ever know how often this has been me?

To some woman, he will still give lofty speeches
on the proper conduct for her humor and her discontent.
While I myself, have become speechless before her kindness;
as I am speechless before her fury.

Removing her soft dress with a kiss in the dying shadows,
he believes that making love begins in the bedroom.
Yet I have seen, it is in the dancing lights of the other rooms
where her passion for you truly takes root.

To most men, the only important words a woman desires,
will simply and always be - I love you.
But I have learned, the hard way, the most important words
will always be - I’m sorry.

- Just a peasant