Men of a
Certain Age
By Sandra Miller-Long
___________________________

Men of a certain age.
That time after youth and full flower
when the hair begins to gray.
A touch of leather on the face.
When the eyes begin to develop the sag of wisdom
And the lines around the mouth suggest wry wit
Born of more than a couple laps around the block.

Men of a certain age
Far surpass the smooth yet vague babes in the full flower of their youth--
Freshened by the pneumatic pumps o' blood streams free of free radicals.
But with brains unsoiled by the tragedies and comedies
Which only time plays out in our souls.
The bland staring smooth perfection of a life not yet lived.

Perhaps when I am crunching noisily through the late autumn leaves of my life
I'll find those tender young buds more succulent.
But for now it's a beautiful head of silver
A well seasoned face expressing complexity and ambiguity
A comment resplendent in robes of experience and perspective
That causes my heart to leap and my face to burn.

For now, I prefer the company of men of a certain age.