Holding Hands

A timeless couple,well-clear of four score,

Far beyond caring for allbut each other,

Out in the crisp of aclear Sunday morning,

Saunter the sidewalks asone, holding hands.

 

“They’ve been a twosomesince Christ was a corporal”,

Says Cassie with confidencelike an old friend.

“Childhood sweethearts,coupled for life.”

I smiled, then went backto my coffee and book.

 

“How do you know that?”my left hand remarked.

“We talked in the park afew times,” she replied.

“Children all gone, movedaway, some have died.

All they have is eachother; sad but sweet.”

 

He was a soldier in someforeign hell-hole, while

She wrote him letters andprayed his return,

Swearing to cling to himnow and always as he

Came limping back to her,shrapnel and all.

 

He’s slowing down thesedays, little by little.

She has to wait as hecatches his wind.

Moving still closer,patting a shoulder,

Waiting and comforting,holding his hand.

 

“That’s what I want,”Cassie sighs in a whisper.

“They’ve seen so much,had so much in their time.”

Now, in their winter, tolive in the mem’ry of

Strolling a lifetime asone

Holding hands.