One is in her 80's,

the other is in her 90's,

two old sisters who live together

in a little ranch house

where horses graze 

and the wind blows the gentle green.

The son of the older sister lives there too,

keeping an eye on mom and aunt,

happy that mom and aunt let his boyfriend join the household

and treat him like family.

Mom walks with a cane,

aunt uses a walker,

they are spry and smart and have twinkles of wisdom

in their eyes.

Son made us coffee when we arrived.

We all sat around a table covered with a plastic tablecloth adorned with images of bright red roosters.

A black kitten darted in and out.

When we first walked in,

the sisters greeted my husband with enthusiastic endearments--

a visit from a far away first-cousin-once-removed (my husband's dad was the sisters' first cousin)--

they knew my husband as a little tike and he was sooo cute

(he still is, in my eyes).

We are all old or old-ish now,

the matriarch sisters,

the son of the oldest sister,

my husband and me,

we sat around the table

and told stories,

and, in those moments,

a time of reunion and memories,

we were blessed.