Outside the daylight slowly fades
calling forth the end of day
while we sit here on this old couch
supper eaten, dishes put away.

T.V. on, some old reruns,
just for background noise you see,
to relax the past day from our bones.
I squeeze your leg, you smile at me.

Through the glass doors stars appear
as the trees outside slowly turn black
and the details the world dissolve
all while my fingers trace your back.

Then you rest your head on couch's arm
and perch your feet upon my ample lap.
I know they're there for me to rub
as we follow this familiar map.

Massaged feet and then a spastic jerk
(random tickles are the price you pay)
I glance at and share a smile with you.
A whippoorwill shouts while we play.

Then the hour chimes its end,
you arise, hug me and say good night
while I try to write some little thing
of how love's not always hot and bright.