The Old Couple

                                    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.