Married Despite All Odds

Pure and lovely like the little rosebuds
peeking through the dark red roses of gratitude
next to pink ones of grace,
he stood ready for his wedding.

The zinnias of yellow, magenta, and white
reminded him of those many who had died over the years.
"First generation" who had passed before the cure came,
who should have been celebrating today, yet they were somehow.

White violets flirted with blue violets, 
reminding him to keep a sense of romantic fun in coming days.
The resplendent passion-flower? Well, that spoke for itself, 
and he blushed and buried his face in the tulips for a moment.

Today, this hour, each moment, 
he had longed for and imagined and replayed. 
His wedding,
his beaming groom,
his bridal bouquet. 

2 thoughts on “Married Despite All Odds

    1. Thank you very much. While writing this, I kept thinking of my various friends who were able to officially marry a few years ago. The man who formed in my mind’s eye was actually a composite of two friends: one’s sweet, shy smile (“blushed and buried his face in the tulips”) and another who lost his partner to AIDS in the 1980s (“reminded him of those many who had died over the years / “First generation”) Both of them found love when they least expect it, and it was all the better to see them get married. It was such a hopeful time.

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