Purple sunset

When we’re old
and out of steam,
memories running on fumes
in the final lap of our lives,
I hope we remember
this melting purple sunset
dipped in easy camaraderie
and companionable silence
and chocolate milk-fuelled
languid aimless long drives
along winding roads without names,
in an interlude without games.
I hope we remember
we were once in love,
before time took us for a ride
and we had to hastily put on
our well-worn Cinderella shoes
and make a dash for reality
before darkness claimed our sky.
When we’re old and spent,
and in our twilight years,
hanging onto a hint of lucidity,
I hope we remember
that we were once content
under a fleeting purple sunset.