The Old Couple
They sit together with hands folded
Into each other and they speak
In soft tones into their ears,
Betraying their decaying bodies.
She smiles, he whistles,
She smokes, he sings,
She talks, he tries to hear,
She sews, he jokes,
They’ve meshed into life together.
Grandparents certain, close in sight
To how I remember mine,
Even these days as they visit
In my dreams, surprising me
To ask how they can be here
When they both have left
Their home where I knew them.
We see the couple warm
At their loves bonded
And we touch our palms to our chests.
A younger man and woman pass
With hysterical slaps by her
And mistaken indifference by him,
Not quite balanced, I guess
It depends on the age.
They sit together as one
Not afraid to see the others' eyes
And they glow as their friends
And the days go bye.
