Epithalamium

               for Andrew and Sandrine

What was I
but a cell in motion

the occasional collision

river      gutter      culvert

window through which I see you

the end-
point

near-mirage moored
at the horizon

to which the I in me
moved

as if there were still there

as if an I
is what I thought
                            to find there

And what was found there
when to you this I cleaved

(by I I mean a we)

(by we we mean a doubling
                                  —no thing halved)

When I say I
we are left to say it

When I see I
there are two there

By Brian Henry
Recipient of the 2006 Carole Weinstein Poetry Prize

Copyright © 2006 by Brian Henry.
Reproduced with permission.