yesterday morning
you met my coach when it arrived at
the western union office
you were standing on the
porch steps, starched and tan,
much taller and
broader than your letters
led me to believe...
and you were handsome
I was surprised by that...
i will tell my sisters this
by sunset I was your bride
and from the buckboard seat of our
wagon, filled with trunks of Boston linens,
my mother's sterling, and old lace,
you spread your arms and said,
"all this is ours..."
and it frightened me to think
a land so wide and empty
could be owned.
this morning I am no longer a girl
I am your wife and you have brought
me a bowl of eggs as beautiful as
the sea glass my mother always
found in the pockets of my father's
vest when he came home from
the sea....
i will be happy here
with eggs the color of the ocean
and grass that dances in the wind...
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