A hundred years

The widowed man and I near drowned in tears
When meeting  by the bus stop down the road
Missing those who  loved us all these years

Through loss itself , we’re  vulnerable to fear
The face shows each one’s  horror like a code
The widowed man and I   gave way   to our deep tears

We think we’re on a plateau,  we ignore
That we are on a  downward slope, age goads
We’re missing those we loved despite  old scores

The cold wind and the rain  were listening ears
To our sad speech when comfortless, alone
We’re widowed  and  enraged by   salty tears

Is this pain a selfish one to share
Waiting for our little bus  to show?
We’re missing  our old lovers and their care

Now we know not what to eat  or dare
We both catch on,  this hint that life’s unfair
So widowed both, enfeebled by  lost tears
Between us we have loved a hundred years