POeT SHOT #5
YOUNG LOVERS IN THE PARK by Paul Martin
This raw second day of spring,
they sit on the damp patchy green,
oblivious of everyone and everything
that moves around them.
He teases her, hiding
something behind his back.
In mock anger, she twists
her face into something so fierce
it causes them both to laugh.
Then she floats her kerchief
like a green flame
in the breeze above his head,
but he yanks it down
and binds her leg to his
with a knot at the ankle.
One arm around the other's waist,
the other boosting them from the ground,
they awkwardly rise
to try this new thing they've become.
Trying to run, they fall,
fall and again fall,
each time pulling the other up
til they work out this strange, stiff-legged
rocking rhythm
and heads tilted back, laughing at the sky,
they hobble into the distance
faster than you might expect
as though they could manage
a lifetime like that.
* * *
What a unique and powerful way to look at a marriage! "Binds her leg to his/with a knot at the ankle," "One arm around the other's waist,/the other boosting them from the ground," "To try this new thing they've become," "Fall and again fall/each time pulling the other up," "Laughing at the sky/they hobble into the distance," "As though they could manage/a lifetime like that."