' . C
He brushes the dust from his suit
and straightens his tie.
He smokes.
Soon they will meet.
The wind carries them closer.
They wave.
Closer, closer.
They embrace.
She is making a bed.
He is pulling off his pants.
They marry
and have a child.
The wind carries them off
in different directions.
The wind is strong, he thinks
as he straightens his tie.
I like this wind, she says
as she puts on her dress.
The wind unfolds.
The wind is everything to them.
Mark Strand
