I liked my women with venturous thighs,
Confident shoulders, and swaggering behinds,
Who boldly looked you straight in your eyes,
Sure and secure and certain of their minds.
Now my hair is grey and I’m a dad. No more nights
Of chasing love and waking with strangers.
I have duties. I lay low. I shun the frights
Of our modern plague, our time of sexual dangers.
I watch my step; I go home to my kids.
I’m boss, guiding two lives, housework harried.
Deciding what to let, what to forbid.
No more sex, I might as well be married.
Not sighs nor lies, the leash that this dog ties.
It’s just the love inside my babies’ eyes.
Copyright 2004 by Angel A. Plaza
Angel A. Plaza is a student at Rutgers-Newark.
