September 16, 2014


Your mother
was disappointed
we didn't want a priest.
The sacrament would
be lost, she said,
leaving us in love
without god,
his guidance never 
crossed our minds.

Our small group
gathered instead
at city hall. 
We exchanged simple vows,
forsaking all others
until the end of time,
the judge hurried us out;
it was over
by half past nine.

Those who were there
have since moved on,
his honor dead 
these thirty long years,
your mother sanctified
and in her grave,
my best man
forever disappeared.
No one remembers
except you and me,
the day you said
you would be mine.