Longing

Is it an illusion in which I delay
as your hair fades gray and thin
while I wait for news that we are
unshackled , unfettered, free

Free to know each other the way the sun
during an eclipse knows
to be cradled by the moon and accept being sheltered
left with only its bright shadow showing

Or are we as close as we will ever be
the situation between us
growing elderly as well
paper-frail but like iron too

But each of us knows
don’t we
as a wolf knows his mate from across
the frozen wasteland in which he survives
day after day on morsels of mice
and frozen lake

We knew like the wolf knows
didn’t we
drawn by the familiar scent and dip of the head
before the howl from before time
and the answer
from across gentle hills
long and low
before this time in which I sit
silently howling still