is walking past my darling.
He is one inch taller than me
and he calls out softly Hey there.
She looks. In the May night
with the trees blossoming
the eyes of the unknown man
meet the eyes of my darling.
She feels a sadness of possibility
and he feels a sadness of possibility
and what they feel is altogether so natural—
the trees blossom earnestly in the May darkness,
my darling feels that everything alive
must die some day
and the man pausing on the sidewalk
near a bed of irises
feels that same truth with a quiet honest urgency
and softly he says to my own darling