They married young
He the strapping star of track and field
Already employed, assembling tractors
She the quietly pretty daughter, held close
Prepared for marriage as her only employ
She brought trunks of books with her
But no children as they grew soft, stooped
He loved her but did not understand her
Slept in while she kneeled before crosses
When the time came for renewal
There was only one option, the holiest land
Rock of ages, renewer of the faithful
He aimlessly cast stones off ancient ruins
As she bowed before Byzantine altars
Thursday, March 10th, 2016
Daily Archive
March 10, 2016
From “II. The Driftwood Wife” by Rafael Ys
Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: fiction, story |Leave a Comment