Age is But a Number: Poetry by Eleanor Vigneault



Your moniker was “the love of my life”

Because in my mind you and I would go our separate ways

Then find each other again at fifty-five

When you’d open your eyes and shut the blinds

Because we’d have everything we need here, inside

Where we’d drink our wine and spend the rest of time

Sharing all of our secrets and we’d laugh and we’d cry

Because we’d been looking for each other for half our lives

And being together would be the sweetest surprise

Then we’d grow old together and hold hands together

But we’d never tire of lamenting the tales that left us wise

And finding ourselves in each other’s eyes

We’d share everything but never “Goodbyes”


We’d have half a lifetime to make up for…

But then I met you at twenty-four.

Eleanor Vigneault loves to write poems and writes poems about love.


Poems curated by FORTH poetry editors.

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