Matrimony

OUR WORK,
TO GLEAN AND HUSK,
TAKING PAINS TO GATHER
WHAT THE REAPERS LEFT BEHIND--

HOW MUCH GRAIN TO SALVAGE?
WILL IT KEEP?

IN SLEEP WE CLEAVE AND SIGH,
EACH CLIMBING INTO THE SHELTER
OF THE OTHER...
IT IS NOT ENOUGH.

NOT ENOUGH TO ENCLOSE US
AS WE ARE-- VULNERABLE, EXPOSED.
PLAGUED BY SUN THAT SEARS OUR SKIN,
RAIN THAT PELTS OUR BACKS,
EVEN THE ANGRY WINDS
CONSPIRE AGAINST US...
TORN UNTIL LOVING, LIKE BREATHING,
BECOMES THE ENEMY THAT AGES US.

STILL, LOVE SWEEPS HER CONTENTED SIGHS
ACROSS THE LANDSCAPE.
STILL, WE SEEK OUR QUIET RESPITE
IN THE SHADE OF A STACK OF HAY,
CLOSE TO THE DELICATE SHEAVES
EARLIER BOUND
BY AN UNSEEN HAND.