An old man glances through a window
to one in the building below.
Through slats awry in seduction's haste,
candlelight strobes
on sweat-glistened bodies.
He watches, transfixed,
the images through the blinds,
his eyes too frozen to obey.
(Turn your head! Go to bed!)
Two bodies loving, unaware
of the innocent intrusion.
He watches, aroused,
passion rising in two rooms now.
A goddess bent over a sofa,
Adonis behind
in the flickering light.
A conqueror, a conquest,
and memories of his youth
rekindle and burn
and an old man cries.
Bittersweet images
through the blinds
and he cries.
C.J. Heck