My Father's Big Smile On Good Couple's Day (11/22) Poem by Zyw Zywa

Given in marriage: my father
with a big smile at the table
smelling of leather
his big hands

that begin his speech
with a heavy ruffle
on the shoulder of my love:
on him, I can count

He beats a burden
out of his heart, into my husband
we toast and drink
from crystal goblets

bigger than our face
a circle of distorting mirrors
in the crystal balls
we enjoy ourselves

the witnesses get drunk
they have been married for a long time
and don't care about the moon nor
beds that are waiting, asleep