Ivy creeping slowly up the porch.
Ice cubes drowning in an empty glass.
Citronella wafting from a torch.
Chirping noises rising from the grass.
A rocking chair, a parcel piece of land.
The setting sun, the moon unveiled at last.
A ring-wreathed finger on a wrinkled hand.
A dwindling sigh, a gaze fixed in the past.