Two young brides in the family album
embraced new wifehood at twenty-two.
In gossamer gowns on their blessed days
in rituals of womanly blossoming
they walked toward wifely happiness,
caring for husbands, raising their children
all well loved in their homes.
Two young brides born across new thresholds
found a stern code of law in their homes;
wives and children grimly ruled
daily obeying their breadwinner.
Two young brides in the family album
sixty three years apart.
One young bride, her own art extinguished,
burnt his art in glaring flames
on his final funeral pyre.
Her release was quiet widowhood
in her home now untroubled
by the breadwinner’s ice cold demands.
The other young bride found
release in departing,
joining her teenagers’ exodus.
She made a new home,
new kitchen, new garden,
which grew in time to
swarm with children, grandchildren
and an open hearted husband
flipping steaks on the barbecue
wine glass in hand.
Originally posted 26 February 2016
lifecameos 
I love the contrasts, the feelings and the denouement. Very powerful evocation! One of my faves, for sure!
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Thank you very much.
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So cute. I love the picture in my head of a mother bird nesting as her offspring fly around the garden. I wonder the type of bird you are thinking. For me, it was the hummingbird.
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She is probably a mother hen, though she does accept them doing their own thing.
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