I come to say goodnight
and find you asleep
in front of the TV.
The control is in your hand,
your finger poised on the button
as if you are under a spell.
Your gray hair is rumpled,
glasses perched on your nose
mouth half-open.
You are not as handsome
as once you were
but you are so dear.
As I watch you sleep
I see a man
who works too hard
and cares so much.
A man, growing old with me.