When we met we were both walking on air.
I, a survivor of the Korean War
and you, recently divorced from a marriage
that left you shattered with hurt.
And yet.
We fit together effortlessly and embraced
in a love that has lasted 67 years.
Our kids and grandkids,
manifestations of our better selves,
beg me to remain.
Now that you’re gone, I survive on a rich tapestry
of sepia-colored memories that will keep me going
until we meet again.