In Front Of The TV

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.