For Danny (8/6/2020). -M.Weisgerber

Those were different days
A cupboard held all the spices, the pieces we shared
Our lives, our love: each filament and fragment something more
Spinning round.

That well could not hold, or lie

I lie. I lied. 
Still, we here with our little cat
(who has taken the habbit of licking her legs clean,)
My love, my love, I call our name - our love
What means such subtle words, in hardening times?

So this, the week before you wed, you marry poorly well
Know that I still hold those days, the ways close

So I enter in


She of the long legs, I of the heart;
We knew each other well.
We shape, change each other,
On the Detroit nights a turning, burning well.

Those were different days.