In Time,

by Nonnie Augustine


we will walk on gravel paths 

studded with gemstones.

Our plates and bowls will be chipped

porcelain exquisitely painted.

When we drive in our weary car

we will listen to Mozart.

Sunlight will fade our carpet

and our windows will be

draped in fine French lace.

We will dress for work

and undress for pleasure.

Sway and I'll steady you.

If I should slip, you'll put me right.

Each will soften the landings

of the other's great leaps.

As we sit at this café table 

in Montmartre, sheltered

from the downpour, I see our future.

I will write it down on torn paper, 

using a sapphire pen.