Friday, December 3, 2010

1967

He looked at the chart
and his heart jumped a bit --
the spectre of Time
never failed with His wit.

He pulled back the sheet;
in the space of a breath
they were both young and beautiful,
laughing at death.

Forging a path
through bigotry's weeds,
talent their ticket,
charisma their creed;

But decades march on
and paths change and falter.
Former successes
are laid at Fate's altar,

Until reunited
in irony's glow --
"The Black Valentino",
"The Brown Clara Bow".





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