Today was your birthday. Despite all the years since then, I still see your face shining on that first birthday we shared… because someone had cared enough to find out what you liked. You weren't used to that, weren't used to mattering to anyone.

Your face was shining again today, love. You were still shy about anyone making a fuss, but your eyes and smile betrayed you. What I saw there was joy.

Neither of us is young anymore… I don't know how many more of your birthdays I'll see. But I've treasured every one… and each day in between.

***

Today was my birthday. It was the best I've had since that first pineapple cake… I managed to surprise Jonathan. He couldn't have guessed I'd choose to be *here* on my birthday, but the smile that lit his face when I asked was worth everything to me.

It's sunset now… the stars are flickering on. Watching the sky together, as we so often have, I'm cradled between his legs, his arms warm and strong around me.

We're no longer young… any sunset could be the last we share. But we've always lived with that possibility, cherishing these small moments together.

***

Yesterday was your birthday… but you surprised *me*. It was a gift for us both, your delight at my surprise and this time here together.

Past midnight now, the moon silvers your hair, your face ageless in the soft light. We both felt young as we loved, my body answering yours as fervently as on our first night here. Your kiss afterward tasted of you and of me… and touched all the deep places in my heart.

Now you drift quietly toward sleep, held safe in my arms, the Eala Bhan rocking us gently on the tide.

Once again, love.

***

Finis

and walk among long dappled grass, and pluck till time and times are done
the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun.

—W. B. Yeats, from "The Song of Wandering Aengus"