Beauty Mark

On Baxter Street
young ladies walk among the trees,
themselves strategic in their placement
as a hymn to the aesthete,
arranged to interrupt both heart and breath
from their routine;
for I saw each arrested step in passers by.

And as I saw the infant green of spring
in altered light,
I wondered why and how those adolescent thighs
can rest upon the benches there
with such an ancient grace.
I think it was the ancient men like me
who watched--who were the necessary foil
to all this loveliness.

I contemplated that outrageous truth
until the bold impressionist called twilight,
kindly blended youth and age within its soft domain
and in true charity confirmed
that imperfection is a gift to greet with joy;
that much I learned
on Baxter Street.
~