Location

Time and place are married to every action.

The bride fixes her hair at church while the bells ring from the stone tower above at noon, noon, noon.

The groom was baptized at St. Francis Easter Sunday 1982. His mom wore her pink hat and sat in the front pew, beaming.

They’ll never break up, and they can’t break down.

That’s what People do. One day. In their home. In the morning. On the street.

Then and there.

Last week, I saw the moon through my window and thought long of you from 5,000 BC, away from the campfire, standing on pine needles in the clearing on the hill, drunk in its glow. And then I thought of you from 5,000 AD, living on a manmade island, wondering if your girl misses you up there.

Nothing happens never and nowhere. If you think about it, it’s not scary. We move. Then we rest.

I’m sorry for the weight you carry. I feel it too.

Under the bells. In the moonlight.