They sat to break a breath, at that corner
His silver hair gleamed in a ponytail
She held herself steady at the waist
They leaned forward again, to speak in murmurs
He recalled footsteps that had been firmer
She clutched his arm as she stood in pain
Purposefully, nudging pebbles into a pattern
They sat to break a breath, at that corner
His accumulated medals adorned walls
He drew his life in trace lines on a map
Trembling scribbles of traveled lanes
His silver hair gleamed in a ponytail
Her character spoke through her distinct tastes
She wove the scent of flowers into her colorful throws
Beading baubles on laughter strings
She held herself steady at the waist
Their cherished story is of the party with drummers
They relish their tea as much as arguing over theories
The vastness and vigor that has been acquired together
They lean forward again, to speak in murmurs
Kashiana 
“Ripe ness is all”
Shakespeare said these memorable words
Your description of old aged husband and wife speak in volumes about Ripeness in old age
Papa
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