Behind you in that strength which in our youth,
If ever we have it, squeezes all the nectar
From the grapes. It seemed you’d never lose
This power and sense of joy, but yet at times
I saw another phase of you......
There was the day
We rode together north of the old town,
Past the old farm houses that I knew—
Past maple groves, and fields of corn in the shock,
And fields of wheat with the fall green.