This one is for
Friends ask us why
we decided to get married,
friendly puzzlement
reflecting true affection.
As close to a love poem
as I'll ever get.
Your daddy sits on our sofa,
blue checked golf pants
and orange sweater, rereading
Ice Station Zebra. Mom's
white blouse
on a hanger in the sun
from the padlock's clasp
to the shed door.
I wake by water's edge
Willingly I'll say
there's been a sweet marriage,
seabirds loud with dawn
in the harbor. Last night's
boneless breast of roast duck
topped with apple,
strong sweet aftertaste
lingers on. I won't forget your eyes,
the way they saw, tears
streaming, as you recited
words of Robert Duncan
and I my Zukofsky, and I
would fill your arms
as if with flowers
with my forever being there.
from What
