You are a jewel
 outshining my recent companions
  like Venus rising above the dark treeline
   in the evening sky.

As far as Venus, as impossible,
 67 million miles, 90 atmospheres,
  carbon dioxide, sulfuric acid,
   a far orb glistening in dry perfection.

Pure as de Milo, an ideal
 carved of marble.  A love
  far removed in space and time
   preserved carefully in warm affection.

We have changed, you and I,
 no longer easy carefree youths
  if ever we were.  No longer
   dreaming of dances and kisses
    passing notes in sultry climes.

No hot-blooded Adonis I, not possessing
 a carnal beauty of my own,
  I stand here at my telescope
   contemplating perihelion
    watching you depart.

Love these days is a hard spiky gourd
 a maze of difficulties, a harbor
  navigable only with aids and long dense charts.
   Fears, uncertainties dog me.  But
    as long as I may gaze upon your orbit
     I take heart in hoping I may find
      a similar satellite for my soul.

Miles and miles of open American heartland
 lay between us.  Hours and hours of
  drudging toil thieve our time.  For
   two brief days I basked in your presence
    and I will remember.

The dusty stars wink
 in a dark empty sky
  as Venus sets,
   following the invisible strong thread
    of her Maker's design.

I turn from my lenses,
 tread careful up worn stairs
  to my high attic room.
   My paths heaven-directed
    as yours.

I climb into bed, pull up the sheets,
 watch the sunrise herald
  the end of a night's work.

On the last star in the brightening sky
 I breathe a wish.
           --CSA, 16-Aug-1999