Marriage, Memento Mori

I'm always home by four,
hoping she's here.
Let bankers work till six,
adding their cash. Her lips
put money in my purse,
wet kisses in my ear.

What's love apart,
but longing?
Rocking on our ark
I watch her every night
and fill my eyes like vaults,
and keep on dying.

Copyright © 2002 Walter McDonald All rights reserved
from The Formalist
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission