|What Marriage Means To Me Today
Grit blown upward from the road --
how it sticks
on old snow, window sills, against sheets twisting
on the line. No peace
in the blasting air, even as it leaves for the next
hillside or house.
Stamping cardboard boxes down doesn't tidy up the world.
So much talking, walking by each other
as bread and salt lose their savor. And yet
this is just a day, an hour. A touch of grit
on the tongue. One song
gets sung, a cloak woven and fulled.
This moment, all over the world
countless children take first steps alone
and they don't fall down.