Young Widower

There is a moment at the beginning of your new marriage

when it bugs you that your new wife

still uses the email address with her maiden name.

Didn’t you get married again to clear up such confusions?

You can try this at home. Drive into the middle of a park.

Drive a spade into the soil around the largest tree

until the tip comes up covered in blood.

You have to drive the tool right through the thick

fur of ground rodents to leave a mark.

Out on a bike ride, some chipmunk or squirrel

shakes the entire hedge trying to scurry away

from your fat tire. It makes sense to live in fear of pain

about as much as your dead wife’s brother suddenly

loves rock climbing. What were you thinking,

running down some helpless creature

minding her own business, indifferent to you?

Your first wife, she wanted nothing more than to shed

the dead weight of your name that clicked,

like a busted shoulder, every time she tried to use it.