Old couple

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 by an awakened dream .

It was quiet a mystery woven of little things

and this is the most important ...