The elderly couple enters the town dance,
And quietly seek a table near the back.
He removes her wrap and seats her first,
Then hangs tattered coats upon the rack.
He lights their candle and they talk alone,
A timid smile puts a glow on her face.
He's wearing a white tux, long outdated,
She's in ancient dotted Swiss and lace.
There's sudden quiet as the lights dim.
In moments the orchestra begins to play.
He rises, encouraging her to her feet.
Their eyes meet, to the beat their bodies sway.
Back and forth in unison they twirl,
Melting together as they cross the floor,
Like feathers so graceful in the breeze.
Everyone knows what they most adore.
"They're dancing fools," snips a watcher.
"He's rather homely, and she's a plain Jane."
But they only hear the music playing.
Married for life, their love is just the same.
Picture by: Mark Shagal. Public Domain
