I watched this old couple sitting in the metro.
They spoke in their own world ,
listening to each other .
I could smell lavender and little trinkets
on the kitchen shelve .
The ever-faithful dog was long dead,
patiently waiting for them
in its basket by the fire place...
The man has retained the solidity
of the young oak he had once been ,
the grey of his severe gaze ,
pierced by gleams of amused tenderness.
In her companion ,I imagined ,
looking at her regular features
the solar beauty she was like
on those years of liberty ...
It was a story of little details
and some drama ...
They said yes to each other
and did they ever run away
to the call of other mirages ?
I felt so much intermezzi
in the complicity of their shared secrets...
I was finding the soul of another couple,
dad and mom ,so far away now ...
now and somehow becoming their child.
They are faces that awaken
the memory of sobs ...
I love the wrinkles of past summer ,
traveling through the eternity
of a metro sation ...
They went down to \'\' Europe \'\'
Perhaps another Europe ?
I\'m talking about a time
when \'\'Love station \'\' still existed ...
I contemplated them ,
drifting away on the plaform ,
gently entwined like a dream
to the colors of reality !
It was quiet a mystery, woven of little things
and this is the most important ...