love poetry

when the hours of day are numbered
thou unrelenting past
to come so soon to this imagined dark
i never knew the earth had so much gold
i love my hour of wind and light
little park that i pass through
in your flight
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
see, from this counterfeit of him
in the dark and peace of my final bed
the long resounding marble corridors
roses and gold
out of the window a sea of green trees
i am old and blind