Charles Simic (b. 1938) is an American poet born in Servia. His early childhood during World War 2 informed some of his poetry, that is said to be haunting and agonizing, but replete with gallows humor. He also wrote a lot of poems about everyday objects, such as spoons, knives and forks. I found this poem named Old Couple:
They’re waiting to be murdered,
Or evicted. Soon
They expect to have nothing to eat.
In the meantime, they sit.
A violent pain is coming, they think.
It will start in the heart
And climb into the mouth.
They’ll be carried off in stretchers, howling.
Tonight they watch the window
Without exchanging a word.
It has rained, and now it looks
Like it’s going to snow a little.
I see him get up to lower the shades.
If their window stays dark,
I know his hand has reached hers
Just as she was about to turn on the lights.
One day, of course, the window will stay dark for another reason. The couple will be dead. But in the mind of the poet it will be dark because the couple is holding hands.