Wont to Do

On this night
of our second anniversary,
Venus burns her lamp
remarkably bright.
How odd, I thought,
pocketing my own small
flashlight. I couldn’t help
but guess she and Mars
were arm in arm
on their walk through
the pasture, too,
but they are not
as close as we.
He went down and she
shone all alone,
mopping up the aftermath
as love is wont to do.


2 Responses to “Wont to Do”

  1. eduardo says:

    As aside, before I even begin: Wont. Won’t. The apostrophe makes the opposite.

    That closing stanza, “He wne tdown and she/shone all alone,/mopping up the aftermath[such a dead-on, rapier word-choice, this, by the way]/as love is wont to do.” Ay caramba, ’tis true, ’tis true. (But, hopefully, not for thou and thine—at least not too frequently.)

    • wordweed says:

      I love the idea of Venus/Love and Mars/War walking together arm in arm. Fortunately, my love and I walk closer than those two.

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