The October moon skims the poplar trees, the fields go red and gold, and the pale seeds drift like summer dreams. But you are beside me, and the evening breeze runs true as a compass arrow. With you beside me, this day has all I need. And tomorrow? And again tomorrow? Pure luxury! I never dreamed there could be such wedding, braiding together, life upon life. Strange fruit springs from the climbing vine - I taste the new words: Husband. Wife. Amazing, don't you think? But frightening too. How will we know what to say and what to do to help us grow? Then I see him, looking in - October moon at the bedroom window, a white petal shimmering in my coffee cup, a pale light pooling in your open palm, the same clear face who's watched us all along. Ask him to explain where such loving will lead. "Indeed, I will," he says, a blue-gray smile, "I'll tell the both of you: Tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow still."