A Late-in-Life Marriage

Young hearts in old bodies

produce beautiful bouquets

Where gnarled roots cross

mimosas bloom.

The solitary crocus

which pierced the frozen ground

when we first met

is ready to be plucked

and woven in your hair


We wed as players in a

Shakespearean romance

awakening from our slumber

to find all pain and illness

loss and disappointment


like an insubstantial dream.

There Caliban sits caged

no longer able to wreak havoc

on our lives.

Even if a tempest were to reappear

it could not budge us

locked as we are in each other’s arms.


Marriage is the balm

that heals all sorrow.

As the lutist sings an air

of cuckoos and May flowers,

we gracefully join hands

and take our vows.


The audience goes wild

with wonder and delight.

Everybody loves a happy ending.

Let’s not disappoint them.


(Originally published in Leannan Magazine)


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