For My Wife

Last night I wandered through the moon’s deep dust,
 Flung far across an intervening void
 By wan Diana, clad in waxen robes;
 The velvet stripes that lay along the lawns
 And gravel paths, a silent tranquil sea;
 Dust-fragments floating in the navy air
 As stars. What should I think of in this night
 Filled up with nightjars’ jasmine-scented songs
 But you, my light-haired lady? Should your smile
 Be suddenly unfurled, these pale vignettes
 Would vanish in that bright epiphany
 As dreams dissolve in sunshine. Therefore be
 A memory only in my quiet times;
 Your presence is too strong for subtleties.