after the fire burns the embers

in the still of the night where only snores of bed partners are shared, a hand reaches out to touch warm skin, the same skin that has shared covers for forty years, warm, soft and comforting to the worst nightmares life has offered, sighs and a movement…bodies like magnets come together, not for sex or pleasures of the flesh but for warmth of the heart and serenity of the soul, the years have added the rolls and the lines and the gray hair or receding hair but in the night, in the silent night it does not matter, like silver spoons nestled in a velvet lined drawer they lay fitting perfectly  till daylight releases them to their purpose in this world, mother, father, nanny, poppy, uncle, aunt and best friends to each other…