True Hearts Marry
When I lived in the city
certain dark yellow hours were
driven straight to my poor, beloved street
Crates of rain were delivered with the mail
Old arguments camped out in the kitchen,
old grievances had my number—
but that was how I learned to write
That was the time when certain deviations
from the norm grew stronger
I let them. I wanted them to live
And still, great forces named in schoolbooks
put me to work in the Schoharie Valley,
where the creeks cackled to themselves
as they beat their fists against the houses,
churning out the breakfast biscuits
People threw pennies at the swans because
that is the currency in normal times:
granite, agate, cold intentions, though perhaps
not in the thoughts of women standing on
the hills above the valley, tall and industrious,
breathing in the chilly blocks of air
Oh love, how I have traveled!
Here and there, long and hard
Heartsick but industrious, I wore
oilskin in the winter, married because
I needed to be married, recovered from
the illnesses that are sold in the stores
of the Schoharie Valley and lied on
the journey that took me halfway
to oblivion. But remember: it is possible
that I also lied on the way back
So I think that I am old enough now
to have fulfilled my obligations to
the populace. Now I have a new message
for my friends who are gathering in the
poor, impoverished city, where the sun
arises with a new understanding: we thought
we were unhappy, but we were wrong
So we will get out the old banners,
strip ourselves naked and climb the
battlements of love. Watch the crows
fly towards the city with money in their beaks!
Women are baking the biscuits of resistance,
declaring that they are the brides of time
Thus am I able to declare that I have loved
my work with bread that is stronger than
any winter in a northern valley. I love, I am,
I do what I can to resist the deliveries of death
and poverty. I speak to women in my sleep
But remember: women never sleep
when they are in the city. True hearts
marry upon the battlements and only age
in the fleeting thoughts of swans
--Published in Book of Matches, Issue 3, September 2021