|Oct/Nov 2012 Poetry|
A Diamond Anniversary
for Julia: 22 April 1926 - 30 June 2012
You do a lot more talking in your sleep
than you used to do, now you're growing old.
I wonder what there is for me to keep?
Look back: you see the path we chose was steep,
and needed all our strength—but we were bold!
It took our breath, and left us only sleep.
There was a time when talk of love came cheap,
and what was bought was what the other sold:
there was so much we didn't think to keep.
If all those words were piled up in a heap
of gold, like love's old tokens, bright and cold,
would you desire them, or ask for sleep?
And if we had them back to make us weep
and laugh! Oh yes, a laughter uncontrolled,
I'd wonder what we'd have that we could keep.
I do know this—it's nothing I can hold—
Last night your words were cries: what was I told?
You do a lot of talking in your sleep.
I wonder what there is for me to keep.