Rosanne Singer Poetry
Where are all the mature women today?
young men ask in despair when they meet
for drinks in a bar. Heads nod with regret,
as one by one each recounts his story
of the older woman who got away.
She was so smart, says a cute brunette.
Another recalls, I loved her gray streaks,
laugh lines. A blond demands, Where's history?
Twenty-somethings bore me, no character
in their smooth faces.
One man tears up then,
Do you think I will ever get married?
His friends say, You have so much to offer.
I hate women, he whines, hurt and jaded.
Why are all the wiser ones taken?