LINES WRITTEN TO MOTHERS WHO DISAGREE
WITH THEIR SONS’ CHOICES OF WOMEN
For managing to love
an object of scorn
they place around my neck
a garland of threats.
And the world is cold this winter,
cold as the matrimonial column
they lecture to my sewn-shut ears,
or the stares that stalk
the woman of my choice.
But the cherries are pink
and festive as her love.
Leave cherries to winter, mother,
love to seasoned lovers.