Poem: Ripped | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine

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Poem: Ripped



He was a favorite among good wives
Of Hudson Valley. We'd flirt, lock eyes
At church when Dame Van Winkle—who contrived
To cause unhappiness—would stiffly rise to beautify
The Eucharist line. My heart exulted
To read his note: "Let's run away!" Surprise!
A lady's never been so insulted.
Such tumult when Rip's twenty-year nap resulted.

Speaking of Rip Van Winkle, love

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