The reverse you are. br At eighty or with wife or grandchildren br youth hides in the umbra br a blurred image br shakes hand with the fallen leaf br a retired general br stars and guns are off. br How many times I fondled you br kissed theflowers br followed the flies br caressed the heaps br clasped the thighs br defined love differently. br Feminism haunts here br independence for all I cry aloud br reciprocation is the recipe of love- br all but me was an animal. br I brood like a caterpillar br the elevation of my soul. br Sin or sanctity covers the cabin br I am in it. br That's all. br At eighty that's all.