My wedding ring, after these thirty-six good years of service, has released its hold on three baguettes. Well, aging will unfix memory, teeth, the stars and prongs of gold, the jeweller says. He reads, through his loupe's tip as through a telescope, what cosmic powers decree for small and great: galaxies slip, like diamonds, from their place, and we from ours. But no harm done: marriage is hardy stuff designed to shine with use and bend with stress, and should endure, tempered with care enough, a full two lifetimes — not a minute less — and wear, for ornament, itself alone, should every ring on Earth lose every stone.© Rhina P. Espaillat
From Lapsing to Grace (Bennett and Kichel, 1992)