Still Men

They looked up and saw her
the body electric
fashioned by Eros
coming through the door

tall, with a perfectly turned ankle
worthy in itself of worship
limbs formed by the gods
a sculptor’s deft touch to hip and breast.

The body in age has memory;
hands and skin still feel in the night
as in dreams she comes to take you
and lingers awhile.

The body remembers
the trembling of hands and limbs
and for a time
is young again.

And as she passed the table of old men
she saw in their eyes a different look;
not so much desire glowing,
though there was still a hint of that

but gratitude for reminding them
that they could still feel and want and love,
assuring them that they were, after all the years,
still men.



drawing :  Old Man in a Prancing Pony Bar


About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Still Men

  1. beetleypete says:

    Like the song says, we had a few ‘very good years’ between us Frank.
    Great poem, and one that I can readily identify with!
    Best wishes, Pete.


  2. sojourner says:

    Love the poem, Frank! I can relate as well.

    Here it is, my favorite by Frank Sinatra! Nelson Riddle arranged and orchestrated this haunting piece. Riddle was one of the last, great masters of arranging and orchestration, and he did it at the piano, with scrap manuscript and #2 pencils, just like we all did before pcs and digital recording software.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.