Afterglow

by
Ute Carson
In our youth
sex was a whirlwind,
passionate and quick,
in the backseat of a car or
in Aunt Helen’s linen closet
before the family Thanksgiving feast.
Invigorated, we dashed off to work,
children, and daily duties.

Now in old age
the fire ignites slowly
and its embers smolder through the night,
throwing off sparks that spin around our bodies
gold filaments which never tarnish,
leaving us trembling with wonder
at our still presence.

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