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  • Grant Handgis ~ Author/Poet

"Watching Young Among Us"


Watching Young Among Us

The sun hung heavy

near the island, recapturing

the warm glow it stole

behind the silver intruders

moving with their own

across the sky

in dancing shadows

teasing the contented families

and squealing ninos, running

naked upon the sand

A game of futbol

developed, after loosening

up practice, ring antics

for eager young muscles, while

beautiful young women strolled

upon the wetted avenue, oblivious

to incredible feats of fanciful

footwork, a hero's purse

for the one who was handed

a turn of the head, or even

a smile, which could carry

such treasures

worn heavy as medals of war

for all other young bucks

to share, reminding me

of my own youthful urges, when

love was ruled by a rising stallion

and death was a measure of

honor, beauty was tonic

for the soul, and whatever

returned was a gift from the

Gods, still now

the look of youth upon this eye

reflects a flame of years consumed

humble traveler, student of life

and lover of vision, who's knowledge

has come to know the learned touch

of a woman, matured in years

and life's prevails and

worn paths of men

who wander still in search

of gold

Yet now I grasped another

secret of the heart

I've come to know so well

looking upon the tender flowers

in the meadow on the hill

I need not pluck the fragile

stalk growing in the sun

to treasure the fragrance

and know the essence

so vital to it's life

Copyright 1997-2011

This poem is one when the poet is able to step outside themselves, observe things with self as part of the observation. Spending my days on the beaches of Mazatlan and evenings at Gus Gus' sidewalk cafe gave me constant streams of people before me, and the many interactions that came of it. That is when philosophy rears its ugly head and takes charge of your brain.

Poets are known for writing philosophical pieces. Apparently that is what they are supposed to do. What I was observing was normal life in a Mexican city and the people that populated it. What I was seeing had to do with me in relation to what I was observing, and how that was way different than how I had imagined it just before I arrived. Those weeks in Mazatlan altered the way I observed things and reshaped how I saw them. That changed me.


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g. Michael Handgis Photography

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