While you are away I read poetry and imagine penning rhythms of love to you.
You my sweet 20-something groom
We’ve grown fat and sassy like that card you gave me years ago — husband in the tux, wife in pink satin dancing arm-in-arm at some Gilded Age ball.
That is us now — or close to it —
our dance is to faded rock songs — our costumes denim and cotton
Oh, but we dance with the joy of long love —
with the passion of a perfect choice and the glitter of more to come.