Twenty-eight years and counting…

Twenty-eight years ago, on a Sunday afternoon in a park not far from here, we promised to love, honor, and … I think we left out that “obey” bit. Here’s a poem from Linda Pastan to mark the date.

I Married You

by Linda Pastan

I married you
for all the wrong reasons,
charmed by your 
dangerous family history,
by the innocent muscles, bulging
like hidden weapons 
under your shirt,
by your naive ties, the colors
of painted scraps of sunset.

I was charmed too
by your assumptions
about me: my serenity—
that mirror waiting to be cracked,
my flashy acrobatics with knives
in the kitchen.
How wrong we both were
about each other,
and how happy we have been.

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