snugly under the 'tenmav', the old couple watch children play
running and wrestling under the mid-day burning sun
yet, no admonishing finger lifted from the shade
none, simply because it's a replay for the old couple
a journey back in time, when they ran the same race
though then a smacking awaited them for lunch-time truancy
not the video age then, no fond fingers recording for posterity
but now when they watch, it's they themselves flashing past
childhood playmates once; rough and tumble, no quarter given, asked
mellowing as sweethearts, holding hands in the same shade
there they sit even now, where they turn ageless
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