thirty days over 100
the country was in a terrible fix.
and a dress
of red and white dotted swiss.
You drove ninety miles to the south
to the judge’s house, for which you didn’t miss.
The same place as your mother was married,
and she tore her silk dress on the way in.
An omen, my grandma always said,
not a good way for a marriage to begin.
Yours I know was better,
twenty-five dollars a month for an apartment in the shade.
When the two were joined together,
who knew that it was me,
that would ultimately be made!