We
come around the Mount together and watch
The
joggers hasten to the top, a little smile
Of
envy and condescension on our faces.
Scratch
Away
the flies and find a shaded stile
To
lean against. We’ve done it so often
before
In
every season over twenty years,
And
there are always lovers laughing more
Or
less the same. Once we had perfect ears
And
could listen to their secrets. Now we
know
And
need not smirk, as they rush by, embrace
Once
past the limits of our sight, as though
We
wouldn’t understand. I see the place
Again,
and so does she, without the need
To
look: we merely share a memory of speed.
beautiful poem
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