Tufts of Gray

We hold our peace and watch the joyful cheers,
then pick our way out from the chattering youth.
Remembering what’s happened through the years,
there is no need to talk. We know the truth.

She touched my tufts of gray, which once were black,
then placed her hand upon my sagging shoulder.
I lead the way outside, creating slack,
as I've done since youth when we were bolder.

My love is with me as we make our way,
as she has been since nineteen-fifty-eight.
The smile she draws from me makes my day.
I hold her fragile hand ‘fore it’s too late.

Café behind us now, we trudge the snow,
back to our quiet home and fireplace glow.

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