Reminiscence of the Past

Home from work he comes,
through the wooden door.
She is waiting there,
for him.

"Wash this," he says,
giving her his coat.
"Yes sir."

"Is my dinner ready?"
He asks.
"Yes sir."

Anything he wants,
she does.
Anything he needs,
she provides.

Because in him she sees,
behind that scruffy beard,
the smooth skin, and love
that was once there.

And in those, clear blue eyes
she sees
a Reminiscence of the past.