Travelers

Touch of silver in moonlit space
Cobwebs, darkness, lines to trace
Ages that have worn you well
And lingered in places where they dwell

Smell of parchment worn and thin
Moisture, dryness, and moist again
Rends you till joints ache and refuse
The simplicity of a once youthful move

Yet, warmed by fire and cooled by ice
Fingers that have tempered nice
For touches both sure and gentle
Along thin shoulders just to settle

In camaraderie and love, born of the fear
We hadn’t expressed ourselves to those dear
For we all, travelers, will move on from here.

Convalescent

Sometimes all I can do is throw you things
Sweets and magazines, photos and kisses
I’m not sure what will lift your lethargy
That acceptance of the inevitable
But I want you for a moment to smile
I want you to be reminded that you are loved
And that I think of you
Even if you must think of nothing