After a Dream

I wonder have I grown too old to like
a peer, if I could meet one interesting?
Perhaps my heart’s too callused now and sore,
and throbbed too many times to sense the spike
of Cupid’s arrow loosed while on the wing
or perched upon my lintel or my floor.

Is it too late for fate to give a shove,
and send me in to chance another spring?
Is there sufficient time to now adore
a person I’ll admire? Might I love
once more?

(Curtal Sonnet)

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

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