Here's something different; it's not about a woman but a boat.

                     Old Love

Three years we lived as one,
I the Master, she the mistress,
Did my bidding, answered my call-
Enveloped me in the long nights
Gave my days purpose.
A being apart, yet part of my being,
I met her as a boy, left her as a man.

Time passes---------------calendars turn
In 25 years we met once more.
She is bedraggled, unkempt, uncared for,
A bag lady, the smell of age about her.
I remain in her presence silently for minutes,
And, as I turn to leave, I know,
She doesn't remember me.