Still Men - Poem #31

They looked up and saw her
 a body electric
fashioned by Eros
coming through the door

tall, with a perfectly turned ankle
worthy in itself of worship
limbs formed by the gods
a sculptor’s deft touch to hip and breast.

The body in age has memory;
hands and skin still feel in the night
as in dreams she comes to take you
and lingers awhile.

The body remembers
the trembling of hands and limbs
and for a time
is young again.

And as she passed the table of old men
she saw in their eyes a different look;
not so much desire glowing,
though there was still a hint of that

but gratitude for reminding them
that they could still feel and want and love,
assuring them that they were, after all the years,
still men.

.