Something More than Paper

There is a chill in the air as you walk to the ocean.
Your feet crunch on stones and sticks.
Even here far from the shore,
the remnants of storms litter the path.

You feel her hand in yours.
You feel her presence, something more
than you expected. Perhaps more
than you deserve.

Neither of you are children.
You have lived and loved and lost.
You bear scars, tender and harsh,
deep as the bone. You understand

how life works, and how it doesn’t
and your rose colored glasses have fallen to the wayside
and shattered more times than you care to admit,
the path behind you pocked with broken glass.

But here you are. Improbable.
Improbable newlyweds, nearly a year past
the improbable wedding that tied the knot,
already bound to each other by something more

than paper and promises.
Her hand is in yours.
You lean into each other as you look to the next shoreline
and the horizon with its blue clouds and storms.

About this poem

The woman I love and I are coming up on our first anniversary. I debated titling the poem “Improbable Newlyweds”, but there’s been so much more to this first year than the giddiness of being in love, as nice as that is. “Something More than Paper” captured it better.

The picture was taken on Cape Cod.

Tom