A poem …

In the Park

The pretty lady's shapely ass distracted
The old man sitting down upon his favorite
Bench — more an aesthetic than erotic
Thrill, flesh now weak in different ways from when
He begged embrace and more, and lived
To tell about it. Over there, a starling
Struts and sparkles when the sun alights. "Wow,"
He thinks, "Nice to see at last what all along
You mostly never looked at."