Seventeen years have seen us huddled together,
Against imaginary demons hide.
Despite uncertainties, we lived to weather
A human storm, a war, a burst of pride
Spent on the frailest structure of our life.
And we arrive at some midpoint in dreams,
Still unprepared, but still husband and wife,
Still subject to gross folly and to schemes
The lead forever from a shadowed past
Toward new obscurities, and nothing clear
Unfold upon us though we steer steadfast
Like sailors with their destination near.
And so we trail this blind itinerary
Sometimes with eagerness, but always wary.
Jay Cohen