that kind of love

i happened upon him in my silent walk through a concrete and marble maze. i saw him from a distance, his posture speaking volumes. he was sitting next to his wife. he was quiet, contemplative. his face wore many years of hard work and experience. there was sadness in his eyes, but he was there, nonetheless.

it was plain to see that he adored his wife in the way that he stared at her face. in a sweet gesture, he had brought her flowers. no words had to be uttered. companionship said it all.

i stood back and watched for a while, marveling at the love that the little old man had for his wife. i knew that i wanted a love like that someday.

as i walked on, i had tears in my eyes. because when i left, i left him quietly resting on his marble perch, sadly staring at the picture of his wife on her cold, marble tomb.