June’s story–or, in this case, poem–is “Advice.”
When getting married in Faery, elope.
Issue no invitations,
Hold no balls.
Better still, live together
For a time,
So no one will notice when
You sneak the act by.
For some reason, I remember exactly where I was when I started this poem: camped in the mountains one Memorial Day weekend, sitting beneath the cool shade of the trees. It’s yet another piece that began with an opening line.