A Marriage by R. S. Thomas

We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
love's moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
`Come,' said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance, And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.

by R. S. Thomas

Other poems by 'R. S. Thomas'

Sorry

The Dance

Children's Song

Poetry For Supper

A Blackbird Singing

Ninetieth Birthday

An Old Man

The Woman

A Peasant

Welsh Landscape

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