The Last Dance
The old man took his wife´s dusty hand in his & said, “Don´t weep my love, I am by your side & always will be, so please don´t cry.” She saw her husband through tears of misty memories & sighed. She wept for the girl she used to be, so young & beautiful, so hopeful & free. She cried for the youth she´d married long ago, straight & tall, & knowing it all. She remembered the babies she´d held to her breast, their soft little lips, and their innocent eyes. Those babies, long grown, long gone, flown from the nest. She recalls the dancing under African moons, swimming naked in crystal waterfalls in nights of warm Junes. She still feels those kisses given & taken on warm golden sands. The whispered endearments, the holding of hands. They had lived intensely, & now it´s all gone. Seeing his wife´s sadness, the old man takes his wife´s gentle hand & dances her slowly down memory lane & into the next life where they´ll start loving again.
© Sue Lobo
Excerpt from the book “The Last Dance”
Photo Credit: Lili Saatchi