On Leaving the Bachelorette Brunch

Because I gazed out the window at birds

doing backflips when the subject turned

to diamonds, because my eyes glazed over

with the slightly sleepy sheen your cake will wear,

never let it be said that I’d rather be

firing arrows at heart-shaped dartboards

or in a cave composing polyglot puns.

I crave, I long for transforming love

as surely as leaves need water and mouths seek bread.

But I also fear the colder changes

that lie in wait and threaten to turn

moons of honey to pools of molasses,

broad front porches to narrow back gardens,

and tight rings of friendship to flimsy things

that break when a gold band brightly implies

Leave early, go home, become one with the one

the world has told you to tend and treasure

above all others. You love, and that’s good;

you are loved, that’s superb; you will vanish

and reap some happy rewards. But look at the birds.

Source: Poetry (November 2004)