The Wedding

We drove home
sated with gaiety, family, friends and food

Beyond the traffic noise
lay stifling heat and
the silence that tolls the end of summer
hundreds of miles rolled by
town by city

Out the window
‘Korean War Conflict’
hung from the license plate of a passing van

I thought of the young couple
who had moved into the house
down the street –
where the stone wall was too high to walk along

Curiosity introduced me to them:
she was pretty, he was dashing
they were wrapped in that special happiness
newlyweds share

No one moved in (or out)
of our neighborhood – we were of tall elms
you could hide inside of on Halloween
and houses
where George Washington had slept –
except for this one house
someone had built behind the stone wall

I remember him in uniform
his million dollar smile and odd looking cap
when he left
she stayed on in the house, and I’d visit
maybe my busy-ness provided some form of company

He had gone to Korea
not to a war, just a place far away
when I was six
I supposed that meant somewhere off the coast of Maine

One day
she moved away.