refigerator poetry from another era

I'm going through old records today, doing taxes. The last time I will do taxes for the two of us.
I found a paper plate upon which I had scrawled poetry. I remember that I was cleaning the magnetic poetry set off the refrigerator in preparation for selling our house. It is interesting to look back at it now:

she will cry delicately but ask no less of you
as the sad dreams hit her

wind blows and she sings madly faster into the storm
let the cool rain lick her raw
here is her essential power

then there rose a vision of a still sky
of their luscious moments together
of languid days and sweet sunlight
the ugliness was behind you and me.