Nature to Pass

July 29, 2014 at 7:11 am (Dani Clark, Poetry)

Yesterday a mischievous four year old triplet squeezed my right breast,
his little hand catching me by surprise, surreptitiously pumped twice
as I leaned down to admire his bike. I saw the happy lust in his eye,
and smiled back, not wanting to make it a story he tells the therapist one day.

 

A morning walking to work, the cologne of a skinny Italian almost
knocked me over, eyeing me up and down, and two black men
riding a garbage truck, neon jackets flying past the trees whose buds
were breaking against blue sky, hooted at me, and laughing I blew them a kiss.

 

It is spring. Finally. And I don’t mind either the Mexican or are they Salvadorian men,
who from your typical white painter’s van, pursed their lips at me in mock kiss
for although I am starting to wear my years I will still be fertile for a time,
and you take what you get from where it comes. Yeah, I blew them a kiss too.

 

I remember feasting outside at a long table in Bergamo one clear night in May
red wine flowing, and a Spanish woman, older than me but younger than I am now,
commanding the table with her sensuality. She wasn’t particularly beautiful,
just confident, and there was that lispy accent. She said, and showing us,

her look lusty too: you must never ever forget to meet a person right in the eye when toasting a glass.
And we, I now know, must learn to enjoy the spring, everything and everyone whose nature it is to pass.

– Dani Clark

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