Two On A Bridge

She with thrust breasts and blonde coiffure
was seventy if a day, and he an old man scrubbed
down to his consuming smile —
though not for her (they were shy in their new love)
but for the ducks;
both unable to believe their luck
at a chance for another self.

One to see themselves as they seemed not
until they met, yet also seeing
that they are now what they always knew they were.