The 50year old lady behind the deli counter

slicing the beef with a gleam in her eye

is sought for what

she’s done and knows.

The little girl jumping rope

to the chanted pounding on the sidewalk

is sought for what she hasn’t and doesn’t,

yet.

The 4th grade school boy at recess

even as he taunts across the Great Divide

in the play ground,

“Girls ha-ve koodies! Girls ha-ve koodies!”

can’t explain but longs for

a rising beneath his

whitey-tighty-crusties

so deep and hard and mysterious.

And Oh!

the ardent adolesceent

dreaming for even just a lingering touch,

a seripticious brush

against the lush white blouse

hanging lose over

Sally-Wears-Short-Shorts

shorts.

Then,

(so soon!?)

the old man playing chess

on the table in the park

can only hope for,

long for

just a memory

as he voyours the couple

under the blanket on the grass

at cooling sunset,

warming up,

warming up the coming darkness,

soon coming….

and coming.