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Ash cascading, fading, onto highway
Floors
Unswept. Unwashed dishes dusted with
Roasted vows
Spoken coldly, unsmiling.
I smiled at the sun, clouds,
Forever sails.
Do you love, honor, and promise to blemish...
Will you take this woman...make her old.
Will you hold her...every 3 months.
Will you turn her laughter to tears...then hatred.
I curl silver light through fingers that once
Curled hair.
I look through silvered eyes of age, that once
Were green with life.
300 days and nights
Have married the
Vows of divorce.
elysabeth faslund
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