"What's not to love?": a valentine sonnet

"What's not to love? For love's a many-splintered thing"
(M Bromberg)

What's not to love? For love's a many-splintered thing,
a multi-tasking chore. Who has the time
or energy to make the single-minded climb
to heights of ecstasy anymore? Better to cling
to thoughts of shared accounts and benefit packages,
length of commutes and 401(k) amounts. Easier, much,
to consider these than the strain of love's ravages
that lead exhausted to romantic swoons and such.

Still, when all is said and done, true love persists:
we all fall in or out of love as often as we can.
It makes no difference the difficulties or the risks,
the dizziness of thought, or the lack of any plan.
Love keeps its own counsel, impediments and all:
My e-mail is down. Give my cell a call.


("What's not to love?" was originally read on A Prairie Home Companion, April 12, 2008.)