Touching from a distance

Watching while his wife
deliberates on delicate matters
safely out of conversations way;
in a pitiful porched door
and elderly man stands with
outstretched arm and palm
tipped to the stair rod rain;

He studies his skin
tough leathered and Costa Blanca tanned
he looks peacefully lost in a youthful memory
as water pools on his shovel sore hands;

odd to watch this
son of a son of a miner
caught reflecting on
tarmac rising haze;
she appears outside to her hatless husband
who quickly steals a kiss
just as from their bygone
courting days;

Startled yet she reciprocates
puts down her shopping bags
her hand she smooths along
his weathered jaw and whispers
with a girlish laugh;

Sixty years a couple
with time still made to embrace
as they walk into their autumn
my own bitterness is
for a moment replaced.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 

Blogging has introduced me to staring at things and waiting for my friend outside a shop I watched this very scenario unfold in front of me. “Licensed to Stare” maybe the title of my anthology, I dedicate this to the old couple who provided me with the inspiration.

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