So Much Change

Remember how the book would not
stay open when we studied together
and the prim-faced man at the end
of the table gave us the eye until
we hushed our fooling. I met him
lately with his full bag of books
coming down the library steps and he
asked about you. I could not answer him,
I can’t account for so much change
nor understand it. We did not plan it
this way, perhaps what we counted on
was never ours to keep. I remember
how you jumped out of bed naked
and ran to the kitchen to plug in
the coffeepot. I thought you looked
beautiful without a stitch on like a
Greek statue come to life. Oh, 
in those days love lived forever
and would bless all the days of my life.
I thought our flowers would never wither.
Now I worry, half a year ahead,
about New Year’s Eve, about who will hum
Auld Lang Syne in my ear as we dance
and kiss me when the clocks strike twelve.
Now as I look around lilacs
are not anything but lilacs,
the oriole is just another bird.
Everything is just itself and not
a transformation into something new
and lovely as once I saw it.