an old man's elegy

an old man’s elegy, at the point of death, for that lover who never quite was

 

I have your number

I never called

 

when I happened past

your house,

no matter I loved you,

no matter I missed you

I did not steal a look

 

did you sense me there?

did you share with me

a heart-leap heart-sink

sudden presentiment?

 

perhaps you glimpsed me through the hedge?

 

yet, Adinah, yet

we might have made it

we only had to ride the storm

 

that sun-blotting cloud soon passed

but ‘soon’ was a wait too long

 

in my dreams of meeting you

you found me sleeping

in the shade  

at an oak-tree foot

 

you skipping

with a troubadour host

in a dress of sparkling

scented with sandalwood

woke me with a tambourine

 

then led me deep

to a vanishing point

in forest glades

singing mandolin songs

of courtly love, odalisques

kasbahs and minarets

magnolias and seraglios

 

oh and kissing my ears

you whispered you loved me

often you whispered it

 

I’ve feasted on that

and its memory

 

I turned my face to you

smiled at your eyes

reached across the room

 

you smiled into my eyes

you reached out too

 

centre ballroom

under the spot-lit crystal

we stood face to face

 

waiting for the baton

waiting for the brass

waiting for the strings

waiting for the drums

 

waiting waiting waiting

for the music

waiting waiting waiting

for the dancing

 

we never heard the band

we never danced

not then

not ever

 

our lives apart

have been the dance

we never danced

 

an elegant frozen

pas de deux

 

a silent sonata

a song with no words

 

we will never walk hand in hand

making bare foot paths

where none have trod

 

we will never step out together

as our feet grow older

 

but that’s all right

we had a time

and what a time

we had

 

I think of you and pray

the joy we shared

will fill your days

 

and may the arms

of the Everlasting

reach down for you and

carry you safe  home