After the Honeymoon

After the honeymoon comes the marriage

I recall moments of oblivion:
sunny instants planted in our hammock
being nothing but alive
hearing the organ strains of dust
cascading against the firmament.

We are no longer hindered
by restrictive Catholic ties;
oblivion can slacken only those
who must recollect;
dust coats those who sing
but we two skeigh spirits
celebrate no high mass.

We are as two mirrors
peering to each other, dust to dust,
reflected and reversed twice apiece
yet striving to return our hearts
and twice turned, our eyes meet once
before the dust dulls this gleam.

LMC 19 March 1975