We were crazy young.
And it was crazy hot outside
that little Baptist church
on the muddy-red Red River,
that little church surrounded
by trucking firms and
mechanic shops. We raced
through the ceremony,
I have to admit it’s something
of a blur, but with the wedding
at 5 and reception at 5:10, and
we were welcome to stay
for the revival at 7, it’s no surprise
it seemed to blur on us.
We didn’t stay for the revival at 7.
And life happened: moving and
working and oil embargoes and
children and we built our own house
once and somehow 45 years have
passed, that blur again, but I would
gladly go back to that red-brick church
beside the brick-red river and marry
that girl all over again.
We’re still crazy young.
