The night before our wedding vows
were exchanged, we changed the bedding.
Cotton from Cairo to Carlisle, you said.
And, amid these mills and pyramids
unfolded, tucked and spread, we slept.
Dreamed freedoms formed from enslavements;
cold words are never sentenced here.
We have no need for apple crops,
tobacco shops, or any other
pavements. Watch dusking sparrows stave
for us, elder tree arrangements.
Our slew of gifts; featherlight
glyphs, handwritten and secreted
between sheets, writhen; scented letters.
The rings beside us on the table;
bedside for this evening only.
Raiment waiting on the railing.
The morning birdsong, wedding bells.