Singular

Poetry 4

My next blog series, slightly delayed, hopefully will debut on September 11. In the intervening period between series I sometimes share with you a bit of poetry. Today's post is a poem I wrote sitting at my desk at Toyota Youngstown on a slow day about five months before I got married. It spoke of my hope for what our marriage would be. (The 'Man' referenced in the first line was a nickname I gave to Mandy.) Now, some eighteen years later, I find the desire I expressed in these words back then rings truer then ever. 

Sonnet XI

Singular

I want my life to merge with my dear Man, 

To twine itself around her own until

Others looking closely at us will

Not tell where she would end and I begin.

I want, to name a word I oft have used,

To mesh with her, to join, to be, to blend

So tightly nothing can be used to rend

A seamless union, welded, melded, fused.

Often in my daily chosen path

I meet with those who in unseemly wrath

Have severed lives not meant to be apart

Because they did it wrong right from the start.

Let us be together fifty years, 

Transformed so that our twain as one appears.

-Tom Brennan
July 19, 1999

One of our first pictures together
as a dating couple.