Hand in hand
they sit on a park bench
as unspoken words engulf them.
Arthritic fingers rest on hard-earned callouses.
Still a sparkle in her pale blue eyes.
Still a smile that melts his heart.
A grin creases the old man’s wrinkled face
unmasking the mischievous fair-haired lad.
He first fell in love with that curly-headed lass
before he knew what love was.
Even as a girl, though she didn’t know why,
her heart belonged to him.
When twilight begins to fill the park with shadows,
they struggle to rise from the bench.
On unsteady feet, a lifetime’s devotion
gives them strength to continue their journey
hand in hand.
© Susan Schoeffield
Written for the 7/16/14 prompt at Poetic Asides to write your poem as a story you imagined for a stranger.