Let them Sing

As for a moment, they bring

to their old throats a young laughter;

to their dark eyes the soft gleam

of quick toys. They hold their cups

as they hold a joy that will twirl

on its end as it’s turned

on the strong grip of boys.

Blast of a wonderful noise.

These old men, once-young,

who stay the slip of this day

Leaning their stiff backs

onto the soft pliable chairs

as if to win them all back--

All the reckless ways.

All those lost days

already leaving.

Already stringing out the faltering

voices of what’s only about to begin.

All those sweet moments

of sin. Let them sing.