Bones creak, moan, and swing
With the winds of age
As two lean, toward common ground
They merge
Supporting final sunsets
Weakened eyes do not see
Present reality
But young lovers, eternal joinings
Sunsets burning like passions
Kindled and fed
Care-worn faces etched
Engraved by memories
Births, deaths, children
Grow and blossom around the porch
Time flowers bloomed and
Slowly wilting
Stars, like secrets shared
Wink one by one
Thoughts known as if whispered aloud
By the night air
Hands joined
They face the night together
As the sun sinks slowly
Into the grave

This is a poem I wrote a few years ago after seeing a sweet, little old couple sitting on their front porch, leaning against each other and holding hands as they watched the sunset together.