The almost-man in a rented suit pretends
to look casual, as if, like Fred Astaire,
he was born to tux and tails.
His unruly thatch of hair is newly subdued
by the family barber. His smile flickers
between shy and boy-devilish.
The corsage his mother chose lies trembling
on the shoulder of a nubile date whose father snaps
the photo while flashing a protective frown.
Suave is what he’s aiming for with a jingle
of car keys, that pretense of independence.
He mentally reviews memorized etiquette,
the expectations of these refinements.
The photo has a rosy cast betraying age,
time’s accumulation now so thick
the grown man scarcely sees himself
in this mirror of his youth. Only now
he weeps for how beautiful it was.
Sharon Scholl, a charter member of the over 90 gang, convenes a poetry critique group and maintains a website of original music (freeprintmusic.com) donated to small, liberal churches. Her poetry collections, Seasons, Remains, Evensong, Classifieds, are available via Amazon Books. Her poems are current in eMerge Magazine and The Queen’s Review.
