Love and Old Age
written by: Salsabil Ashraf
At 60, I needn’t look at your painting, Minerva, to remember how your brown locks would fall to your shoulders
It is golden hour, and I am drinking my tea alone
I sit here and write to you
To your memory
My love for you pulses inside me with every heartbeat despite all the years that have gone by without you by my side
I miss you, dear,
More than the air I breathe
More than my lost dreams
Everything has lost its meaning;
Because the fact remains that
You’re not here.
My bent shoulders hold my anguish over your loss, and the white hairs on my head,
I see them reflected with the wrinkles on my face in the glass frame of your portrait.
It’s been so long, dear.
So long since I’ve held your hands
Or heard your laugh
And sweet voice that would sing our children lullabies
So long since this earth has held you upon it
Since I held you in my arms
Had your head rest against my chest
Since I had you sitting here next to me.
- Love and Old Age - March 27, 2026
- Words - November 18, 2025
