The light is dying out of the sky

Sun said goodnight an hour ago

The garden’s in shadow, one lone bird goes by

The tree’s a dim outline: no breeze to blow

Focus like, darkness comes down upon us

In shadowy rooms, in comfortable halls

Just you, me and cats, soft silence, no fuss

Just a faint radio as evening falls.

Two quite mature people who are in love

An autumnal Saturday of hundreds we’ve known

You’re downstairs, I’m up, but still certain of

The blessings that grow as the dear years have flown

Allie and Peter, Allie and Pete

Even the mere repetition is sweet. 

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