old men in the park

old men
don't care
that they are old.
they disregard
the limp,
the thin wash
of silver
hair upon
their heads,
sitting
in the park
they still believe
that the pretty
girls
in their summer
dresses
are still a shot
away
from knowing
their charms,
seeing the smile
on their handsome
face. always,
always,
there seems
to be chance, a ray
of hope
to win the girl.
it's what men do
from grade one,
until it's done.