(ring)

I love my wedding
ring. It keeps me
married when nothing
else can. I’ve always
felt it’s mine & could
be used again and
again, if the need
arose.
Four small diamonds,
a quartet. The solid-
ness of a square,
though I myself
live & work in threes.

I will never know
the woman who wore
it first.
But I’ve always
felt it has good
luck.

When we were married
it was passed
among the guests,
in an antique bag,
& each one spoke a
blessing over it.
Things I wrote,
that they drew
from a basket
I made.

I’ve often thought we
should have placed
ourselves in that bit of
lace, regardless of the
contortions, and been
lifted, hand by
hand, shook together
like shifting cinnamon
into the flour,
until we were
wed.