Today it was my birthday

I like to see girls in gray sweatshirts

and brightly colored nylon shorts,

in sneakers and dark socks,

their bare knees kicking in the air,

a pony tail or two bouncing,

the girls chattering and laughing

amongst themselves

as they walk and skip and dance

along the sidewalk.

I watched them as I walked up

from the side in South Park.

Then they were ahead of me on the sidewalk,

heading toward downtown.

And in spite of their youth,

actually because of it,

they were soon behind me.

Is it perverse at my age,

or is it our age that is perverse?

As I walked ahead,

I heard them singing

a very old song,

‘Even though I ain’t got money,

I’m so in love with you, honey,’

and I wished with all my heart

that I could have turned for a moment

and sung along with them

and not have them run away.

They don’t need to know,

and I won’t tell them:

this old man sung along with that song

long before they were born.

But I like to see girls in gray sweatshirts.