In FDR’s 4th Term
Pink cherry blossoms drift down from limbs laden heavy,
grown old from sapling gifts from her grandfather's father.
Water falls over sharp-edged cut granite blocks stacked high,
commitments and words of comfort chiseled deep into grey veins.
The bride floats in white billows,
her black eyes held prisoner by her groom’s warm stare,
both seemingly unaware of their photographer,
or the dozens of strollers through FDR's fourth term
capturing the moment with cell phones.
Eleanor would be so pleased with it all.
(from District visit)