I wrote this for my parents' 50th Anniversary. This was in 1991
Forever
My father wrote: “make a poem
for fifty golden years of bliss.”
That which started with a simple look,
perhaps a kiss,
but not too soon,
blossomed as it should.
It grew ...
Into children and more.
We grew ...
a strong brick bungalow,
an old neighborhood of values.
It sticks with us, here
inside, the way you taught.
She hums in her kitchen.
He watches tv.
They are as content
as on that day when vows
were serious things.
The years ...
of graduations and marriages,
of mending clothes and bruises.
... “Make a poem.”
How can I?
You already have.
