Outside, two monarchs
Outside, two monarchs hitch 
on wings of leaded glass.
 
The sky tilts its dome of blue-dipped marble.
A day like a ripe peach 
 
in a high-walled garden.
Wall of my own making.
 
All my life, I’ve been avoiding pain.
Through the screen, the Wedding Hydrangeas
 
nod their lacy caps, their scalloped
hems all aflutter. What illusions
 
I’ve coasted in on. Pain avoided
returns as deeper pain.
 
You’d think I would have learned—
Wasn’t I, a bride,
 
smiling in my white netting,
wreath of pearls, happy
 
because I was determined to be.
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