Your stop for the annual poetry fic challenge!

It was summer and an evening when Elaine realized that she was getting old.

"Hmm." She looked over to Harriet who was dozing in her chair at their porch, and was as old as Elaine was. She hadn't gathered the wrinkles that Elaine had yet, but her brown hair wasn't as bright as it used to be and her eyesight was getting worse, forcing her to actually use her glasses instead of just squinting until everything was clear enough. She was, however, still inexcusably cheerful in the mornings.

"Hmm?" Harriet responded, though she didn't make any effort to sit up, open her eyes or otherwise really acknowledge Elaine. Elaine sighed and leaned back in her own chair, looking at their front yard and the street they were on and the houses around them. How was it that they had settled down?

"Time is weird," she told Harriet, resting her hands in her lap as she started rocking her chair, and the vague sound coming from her left implied that Harriet had turned to look at her, maybe even with her eyes open.

"Yeah, it is," Harriet said, in a voice that hadn't been girlishly bright in ears but nevertheless had the ability to get on Elaine's nerves from time to time, and when Elaine looked over to her again her eyes were closed again, her head turning toward again. With a breath in and out Elaine did the same, and watched the sun set into their future.