Ben Affleck is in love with Rebecca Hall
and you and I are sitting in our RV
which smells of smoke and hiking boots
and the kettle corn on which we’re snacking.
Today we ferried to a favorite monument:
Boldt Castle on Heart Island, still unfinished,
its turn of the century construction ended
with a telegram. Stop all work. Louise has died.
The couple in this movie is doomed, too.
He robs banks, is hunted by the FBI.
Another scripted fairy tale, one more dream
propped against a flimsy sky.
How often have we told the story of us:
young widow, a blind date, a chance trip north,
our first tour of Louise’s crumbling estate—
is love always guided by happenstance?
I study your profile in the darkness.
Twenty years, and still, we surprise ourselves.
Tonight we’re sharing our first drive-in together
because the wind was too fierce to build a fire.
© by Gail Braune Comorat.
Used with the author’s permission.
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