let me tell you about love

the old are dying,

they are dry bones with
muddled
minds. nursed now as if
infants between
the sheets.

hanging on
to a rattling cup of tea.

they remember though, and will
tell you stories
of long ago.

they will extend their life,
hold you
by the wrist
so that you cannot leave.

i was young once, they tell you.
convincing
themselves with a picture,
a postcard,
a ring upon their finger.

oh, the fun we had.
the things we did, the places
we went.

have you ever been in love,
they ask,
their milky eyes, neither
blue or grey, but somewhere
in between.

i was once, they say.
listen to me, listen. let me
tell you about love,
can you stay?