The End is at Dusk

She sleeps like an angel,
pale hair spread out around her face like a halo.
She rests, quite peaceful, in the evening sun,
out on her favorite rocker in the desert air.

Arizona was a perfect choice.
Cactus flowers set alight, matching the sky
in perfect reds and yellows.
The purple clouds perch on her shoulders,
fluffy birds waiting for a seed or two.
This should last forever,
so I would never loose her to sleep.

We belong together, and we have for 62 years.
62 years is a long time.
Long and sweet, and she made everything sweet,
the good times and the bad.
With that ring on her finger,
I’ll never forget the day we said forever
we will be one.
And we were.

I sit beside her and wonder what she’s dreaming about.
Maybe me? On my motorcycle.
Oh, those years of youth long past.
I am so thankful for those years,
and these ones too.
Our lazy days of doing nothing,
just enjoying the time we have left in the sun.

Arizona really was a perfect choice,
and so was she.
I love her.
I regret not being able to tell her
one last time before I...