Poem #41

An Epithalamium

for Rachel and Nicholas Throop


First, let me extend a laurel and
a hearty hand-shake to our town’s
new couple. There are many meager
places to live life, to hang up
the laundered blue collars.

Here he goes: husband,
when the mourning dove hollars; who
wakes at this terrible morning hour,
mangled and blue-bright ray?
As Romeo takes Juliet: it would be treason,
I cannot stay; this is the alba the morning after:
ambulating out of the shower, into the ignition,
the deep diesel exhales.


Teacher of boys and girls, tutor, trainer,
young boys and girls, nurture & nature.
Where is it, Daphne didn’t develop bark when
beneath his light?

May 11, 2015


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