At first,
Love is a Choice
To act,
Not in emotions,
Nor perceived rewards,
Done from duty as duty,
Because we would be
Loving.

Love may mellow
Over time,
See traits worthy of surrender...
Take root,
Become reason of itself
For pleasure,
For staying true.

We performed the ritual courtesies:
Reiterated "Love yous,"
"Thank yous,"
Farewell prayers,
Hugs,
Waving good-bye,
We hoped our window tint
Hid relief shining in our eyes....

And then another farewell,
A mother crippled, old,
Bent low by time and widowed,
Gentle now, and grateful
For our shortest stays.
This mellowed love we would desire
When we have nearly lived our days.
Smiling tears and long embrace,
Juxtaposed these loves that end in sighs
The differences in love's good-byes.