River Rocks

We walked beside a little stream today
picking small smooth river rocks from the water
worn smooth by the constant flow and friction.
It reminded me of us.

These rocks did not become smooth overnight.
It has taken a long time for sand and water to
polish the rough edges.
Time has a way of doing that.

I remember a bronzed young man
with sun bleached hair.
Brown eyes that twinkled,
strong arms and the smell of the outdoors.

I loved the feel of flannel shirts.
The sound of your laughter.
The gentleness of your kisses.
The urgency of your passion.

Retirement years have lightened the skin.
Your hair is grey and almost gone.
Brown eyes seem sadder now;
arms are not as strong.

You still wear those flannel shirts
and I still love to feel them on my face.
Your laughter is the same and so are your kisses.
Passion is still there but not quite so urgent.

Two country kids;
me, with long red hair and big blue eyes.
You, skinny legs and big grin.
Who would have guessed that time would have changed us so?

Bumps and trials, starts and misses, good times and bad
have all worked their magic to bring us to this point in time.
Just two old smooth and round river rocks
out for a walk.