JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

Some say, marriage is like

walking up a stony hill on bare feet

 

Others, like fashioning a pair of boots

without manual or last

 

By their own deeds shall they lift themselves

weave  footwear from grasses and bark

 

Or, like bargain hunters at a sale

try on which one and that

 

He and she, shoehorned into each other

with squeeze and shove, scraped fingers

 

Until, when squeezing is over, fit each other

wool to leather, calluses cushioned by time