The Widow Remarries

I had been wedded before my late husband and I met.
Wedded to an idea, an idea of love.

I was yearning for it, if there‘s a difference
between wed and married, which perhaps there is.

When we met, my late husband said he worried I fell in love too easily,
as though this would somehow tarnish the love I had for him.

But I looked up for him,
and found him looking admiringly down at me.

He said he wouldn’t fall,
but then he did. I had already fallen. So,

I climbed on a rock, water trickling beside,
and turned down my chin, cradling his warm cheeks,
my nose to his head, his head to my chest.

We married, oh so happily.
Deep breath: “I love you.”

Years later, I learned that those happily married
are far more likely to marry again, after.

It’s documented.

Years later, I held him close,
cradled now in a bed not of our choosing.

It had guardrails in case he should fall.
By then he had become accustomed to all kinds of falling.

Falling in love is dangerous.
It is tricky, but also like riding a bicycle.

Legs supple, go round and round,
in tandem,
until we marry,

Deirdre Fagan is a widow, wife, and mother of two. Her poem, “Outside In,” nominated by Nine Muses Poetry, was a finalist for Best of the Net 2018, and her poem “Homesick,” was nominated for a 2018 Pushcart by Constellate Literary Journal. She has a chapbook, Have Love, forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. Fagan is the author of the book Critical Companion to Robert Frost and has published poetry, fiction, and nonfiction, as well as a number of critical essays on poetry, memoir, and teaching pedagogy. She is associate professor and coordinator of creative writing at Ferris State University. Meet her at

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