wedding poetry

if it
eighty years have passed, and more
there is no flock, however watched and tended
often is it not so?
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
beneath my window in a city street
among the mountains i wandered
when the wind works against us in the dark
friend, whose smile has come to be
dark-eyed
wheel me down by the meadow
but i cannot read you now
sweet and strong