end of night

of times when people meet

the old ones sometimes speak

they'd wander thru the street

sometimes staring at their feet

too shy to look in the eye

of those that are true desire

mayhap a light touching of the hand

as they walked across the land

mayhap connect a comforting hold

the kind that remains after it's cold

mayhap talking of their own bliss

leading to one solitary soft kiss

then the night would end

until they can be seen again

departing would be bittersweet