Note to lost love
Your marriage altar will be studded,
with flowers and lights,
Red, Violet, Crimson and green,
The beating of drums,
and the blowing of trumpets,
together with long stereo phoned sound,
will be rising into an indistinct roar.
You will be sitting on your bed,
serene and silent,
with the thoughts of impending rapture,
I will fade, a mere stranger,
A tattered piece of your cloth.