women

when the piano's rippling strains fill my home
or we discuss randomness over coffee

when he strides out of his room a la Beau Brummell
or from his tales I get glimpses of chivalry

when they joust as they cook and laugh at each other
and grab my card on their way to a movie

I smile, I sigh, I think it was all worth the while
the struggle, the loneliness, the tears, the agony

of lost hopes, forgotten dreams, compromises
and all the paraphernalia that you aren't
told comes with wedding finery.

then i remember my mother
and her mother and hers
and it no longer seems so right to me.