Lingering moments

Spain: Our love is gonna live forever

In the dying remains of the day
I passed a cemetery
Monuments set
For the living
A final cry of the passed
To mark that they had lived
A finger in the face
Of the death which had claimed them
That is when I saw him

The golden hue
The suns dying proclamation
Before its collapse
Did little to color the ashen pale of his skin
He was sitting in a white chair
Red Lincoln parked to the side
Back door open
He didn't care
For he was there
For someone else

His white shirt
That had once pressed so tight
Now large
Irregular creases
Marked his shrinking frame
But
Black tie
Straight
Fedora tight
His folding chair so White
Grey pants pressed
Shoes spotless
He was there for the lady
That would always be his

The glaucoma glasses
Could not hide
That his eyes
Were staring
Off
Into a land of memory
Where they were forever
He didn't even bother to stare
At the splash of color
In the flowers he laid on her grave
He didn't care
For he was there
For the someone else
Who now
Lived only in his memory

The memory
The cause
For his lone pilgrimage
That kept him going
Until the next day
For the one day
They would be together