Yearning

For whom does the death rattle whisper on this windless, snowy night? The old man sitting by the fire, listening to his loving wife, wordlessly wishing; yearning for more time within this life. His blue eyes flicked in the fire's light fixated on his joyous love who's black hair blended along with night and silver streak fallen over her eye, never able to stay above. As the rattle grew into a shutter, the smoke plumed upward to the sky. The fire crackled, and popped, and sputtered. Watering, his blue eyes said goodbye.