Revisited

They’re quite a pair.

They walk to the gym

Hours before school starts,

And then they walk home.

They’re sister and brother,

Tall and slim,

Like ancient Egyptians.

Their hair is raven black,

And so are their eyes,

And he is taller than she,

But I think they might be twins.

They never speak to anyone else,

But only to one another.

And he wears a silver necklace made

Of the thinnest strands I’ve ever seen,

But they’re so numerous and hang

So perfectly about his stately neck.

And here and there, randomly it seems,

Countless sterling filigrees, shaped, like charms,

But so much more delicately,

Like stars, they shine.

I have to look twice at him to see,

Is this a man or woman?

But he’s tall and angular, and his muscles

More wiry than I’ve ever seen on a girl.

And the more diminutive twin,

She is a bit more feminine,

But she, too, bears an androgynous appeal.

Her body is svelte, tenuous,

But her sinews flex, with every step

In a sensuous way, slightly understated,

And yet, one would never underestimate her strength.

She commands respect as if

She may have been a general in 

A previous life.

Or was she the wife of a pharaoh? 

This pair, walking so commonly

To the public school in town,

Their eyes are old.

Their souls have been around 

For a long, long time.

I feel I’m seeing Anthony 

And Cleopatra,

Or perhaps it is the great Tutankhamun

And Ankhesenamun, his sister-bride,

Who’ve found their way

To be reborn, this time as twins,

On the other side of the planet.