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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David Rivard
David Rivard
Born in 1953, David Rivard is the author of Wise Poison, which won the 1996 James Laughlin Award...
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FURTHER READING
Poems about Happiness
Happily [excerpt]
by Lyn Hejinian
Afternoon on a Hill
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Compassion IV
by Noelle Kocot
Happiness
by Jane Kenyon
The Happiness
by Jack Hirschman
The Place Where in the End / We Find Our Happiness
by Anne Boyer
The Study of Happiness
by Kenneth Koch
Poems About Weddings
Endymion, Book I, [A thing of beauty is a joy for ever]
by John Keats
Epithalamium, [Happy Bridegroom]
by Sappho
In Memoriam, Epilogue, [O true and tried, so well and long]
by Lord Alfred Tennyson
A Ditty
by Sir Philip Sidney
A Slice of Wedding Cake
by Robert Graves
A Wedding Toast
by Richard Wilbur
Chateau If
by Peter Gizzi
Epithalamion
by Edmund Spenser
Epithalamium
by Matthew Rohrer
Let me not to the marriage of true minds (Sonnet 116)
by William Shakespeare
Magnolia
by Gerald Stern
Marriage
by William Carlos Williams
Marriage: A Daybook
by Nicole Cooley
Sonnet 8 [Set me where as the sun doth parch the green]
by Petrarch
Tear It Down
by Jack Gilbert
The First Marriage
by Peter Meinke
The Kiss
by Stephen Dunn
The maidens came
by Anonymous
To My Dear and Loving Husband
by Anne Bradstreet
To Sylvia, To Wed
by Robert Herrick
Wedding Poems
When a Woman Loves a Man
by David Lehman
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Plural Happiness

 
by David Rivard

A curtain bellying like a pregnant cloud, warm white
light refracted through a tumbler of peat-smoked scotch—
a scorcher of a day at cooling end, with stupendous berries
to eat in lieu of supper, the scoffed pint box of blueberries
chased by a half of cantaloupe & Maytag blue cheese
spread across the remains of last night's baguette—
a plural happiness—I feel encouraged for all
within range—even the hang-gliding error that sent
Jesus spiraling down to earth seems a commitment.
Tomorrow we'll go to Alison's wedding, who
at age 2 & 3/4 attended our wedding 26 years ago,
her blond curls a mystery to be held up & photographed
between her mother & father dark-haired Diane & Larry—
in the riddle of our recessive genes once in a while
something surprising waits for anybody out & about.
Like hearing for the first time a blind preacher or waking
in a Gros Vent campground south of Jenny Lake,
the best happiness is always accidental,—& why not?
I was going to say something about boundlessness
back there (or was it getting gassed I meant?), but that
isn't it exactly either. Tho it is pretty close. Close
enough. And real. Real enough, & sure. God it felt good
to heat water on a primus stove while yawning
and to wash my face in cold Gros Vent & love Michaela.









Copyright 2011 by David Rivard. Reprinted from Otherwise Elsewhere with the permission of Graywolf Press.
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