The end

standing on the east end of Eden,
and it is a million years
from now,

but we are young,
and we are old,
and the wedding lights
are down
and in a box
in your mother's attic,

and the Spanish house
on the sea
and the red clouds in the sky
are a memory
a million miles from here,

"wasn't it dandy?" you say,
"weren't we swell?"

"it was grand," I say,
"we sure were great,"

and the red clouds in the sky
swell up,
and they burst of fire and flame,
and my heart and your heart
erupt,

and it is longing,
and it is pious tears,
and it is that empathy in your eyes