Women's Fashion

 

Styles come and go and styles change

and I have noticed (though I won’t condemn)

some women feel the need to rearrange

themselves to fit the clothes that should fit them.

But my sweet wife has no such desperate need

to tailor her soft form when every vision

of every tailor only can succeed

upon my wife without my wife’s revision.

And yet it seems that current styles agree--

wide legs with her legs, high waists with waist,

and short loose sleeves to let her arms flow free--

with Dara’s body so that Dara is the taste

that women wear who live the wealthy life,

while Dara’s tailored for a poor man’s wife.

The Desert of Knowing

 

This life I live is a desert of knowing.

I see others pass in distant caravans

against the hazy horizon, suspicious clans

of silhouetted strangers rarely slowing.

I watch them, wondering where they’re going

half hopeful yet half fearful of their plans

for any contact on these shifting sands

is false and fleeting where nothing’s growing.

But somehow in this vast and lonely waste

I've found a garden lush and full and green

with beauty to admire and fruit to taste,

where lives of labor will not be erased

by burning winds, where air is cool and clean

and there’s no fear of seeing or being seen.

The Hug

 

So small a thing it is when analyzed

only comprised

of wrapping your arms around a torso.

We’ve done it a million times or so,

but then I thought to analyze it part by part

so yesterday while hugging you well

I thought of your heart

beating inside that shell

of ribs and sternum wrapped in flesh

softly compressed

against mine

and thought “So it’s that simple after all”

(Oh yes, and your mouth happens to fall

perfectly in line

for kissing.)

When the Magic Dies

 

The most awful thing of all is when the magic dies,

or rather hides itself from our adulting eyes

unlike when we were kids and, thinking less,

the sounds and colors seeped into our consciousness,

and listening to God’s creation sing

for us, we felt excitement for the smallest thing

and “five more minute” sunsets blazed

with all the urgency of end of days.

But though the world will less and less intrigue

our aging senses blunted by fatigue

and golden moments whisper more than shout,

you have to promise you will never doubt

our marriage is astonishingly rare,

though seeming common should your eye compare.