by Donald Zirilli

The sky is a berrybush of stars. Why marry?
Women are dancing and men have thick arms. Why marry?
The bridesmaids have strapped on their chuckles. Why marry?
The question on everyone’s buckle: Why marry?

Tell me, proud woman, why marry?
Man, lost in wonder, why marry?
A centerpiece of clutching hands,
knife in cake, a ring of thunder.

The best man squealed. The pastor lied. Why marry?
’Tis to push the veil aside,
I marry, I marry, I marry.

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