For Rosie and George DeJong
There it is, Venice Ave, I told you so.
Venice Beach is way down there,
past those trees. These sunset weddings
are something else. The sun, the sea,
you’d could think you’re in heaven
until the little fleas come out.
Rosie? She’s quiet, friendly,
just like George.
By the way, this is George’s second,
Rosie’s third. It should be a good one.
They’ve had a lot of practice.
These late marriages. The wedding nights
must be so strange.
Desire?
Of course, desire. It’s always there.
But something else, a kind of awe:
all those years of being alone
and here you are,
starting out your life again
with someone that you barely know.