Mister

I don’t have the papers to travel to

the White Cliffs of Dover, but I imagine

it feels like the fog riding out at dawn.

My copper necklace

stays metallic even when misted.

I look for the statue of the local idol

who made this possible;

Maybe it has time to officiate a wedding between me

and the mist that’s gathered here today.

I want to be the groom it talks about the most,

especially to strangers that come from everywhere

to take pictures.

Copyright © 2022 by Oswaldo Vargas. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 27, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.

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“I once stood at the vista point by the Golden Gate Bridge with my partner. I wore one of my favorite copper necklaces and began wondering: what would happen to it if I stood in the fog long enough? After looking at my partner, my mister, I began thinking about longevity. Even if the copper itself changes color or even shape, the love I have for him is a constant.”
—Oswaldo Vargas