napowrimo #3 (a day late)

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Yesterday’s napowrimo.net prompt was an epithalamium. What ex-wife can resist the temptation to write one of these, I ask you? It’s a draft, I keep reminding myself. Just a draft. Like most everything in my life, it needs revision & re-organization. But the words are almost right, and the notion is there…

One thing I love about napowrimo, aside from forcing myself to write a poem every day, is that it falls during Easter time. I find the story of the crucifixion fascinating, in that I can not really, fully wrap my mind around killing someone so that someone else can live. On the other hand, that’s how my marriage felt. (oh goody…a poem prompt…)

Aaaanyway…

 Too Late, the Ex-Wife Learns that April Marks the Beginning of Wedding Season

and she removes her mosquito net,
poor substitute for a veil.

When you are knee-deep in a clear pond,
trout buzzing at your feet
the best-case survival plan
is not wait for the sting

but cover your face.

She considers the wedding.
The preacher with
the sign of the fish
at his waist–
two intersecting arcs
like gold lips.

The groom with fists
balled, eyes dark as black flies.

The bride, a poor fisher of men,
refusing to hide her eyes,
leaving the veil in the vestibule.

When he reached for his new wife
it was like drawing in the net—
he the fisherman
she the good fish saved for gutting and frying.

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