OLDER PEOPLE

I always felt the older folks who nested on our summer stoops
and melted in the softest sweat
Which bubbled on their checks, but never seemed to drip
While glistening the bridges on their noses
Really made the planets and the universe disappear
As they cast away the moon and all the stars
To another place they never thought about
Until the evening brought them back,
With their permission...
I always felt that older people
Made things happen just by what they said;
Hinging as I did on their every word
And just as much on all things
They left unsaid -
There were no vacant looks on them for me,
As every furrowed brow or smile
Taught me the dependency
Of mirroring my sensitivities
On what I felt they might be thinking;
Until their thoughts became my own...
And even in an unexpected shower
While palming up to catch the rain
When I turned back to look at them
They convinced me that they made it happen
In the space between the lightening bolts,
And thunder claps.

Ken Siegelman
Brooklyn Poet Laureate