A Marriage Must Be Worked At

Newlyweds on the honeymoon trip,
they are trying to get
from one set of ruins to the next.
There were no double berths.
He took the top.
Now they are three feet apart.
Neither sleeping.

They are perfectly still,
hurtling over the landscape.

Michael Chitwood
Crazyhorse
Number 68
Fall 2005

Copyright © 2005 by Crazyhorse
and the College of Charleston
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.

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