Where the Boys Are

I passed them passing Bibles out to folks
who crossed their path to get to class by 10 –
a line of old white men. They didn’t coax
receipt – they didn’t preach or say Amen.
They didn’t seem upset to be ignored.
I marveled at their presence and their goal,
who’d not expect a soul to jump aboard,
but there they were. Continuing my stroll
(I had a date for pharmacy vaccines),
I next encountered at the counter there,
before and after jabs, another scene –
old white men insecure about health care.
I wondered as I waited what it meant:
Is this and that where my old boyfriends went?

This entry was posted in Aging, Neighborhood, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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