Widow / Widower

And so they speak, as only two
Who’ve known the end of love can do;
For darkness falls, they’ve come to see,
Without our real complicity.

And one might not suspect that hearts
Still had such room for giving;
Or that life on the edge of days
Had so much room for living.

But there, the sunset gentle falls,
The mountains fade from sight —
And aging swans still feel the breeze,
And know the joy
Of flight

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means.

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