Never Too Late!

Love is like a snowmobile racing across the tundra
It flips over, pinning you underneath
At night, the ice weasels come

(Gwendolyn's mother's poetry - Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas, Tom Robbins)

I performed this poem at my sister's wedding reception when she married into a tee-total clan of Mennonites from Manitoba in what was theoretically a no-alcohol event (to keep the Mennonites happy). I was completely sloshed on Koskenkorva, it was in Finland after all, and most people seemed to have bottles hidden in their cars. It was a golden late-summer day. At dusk I took this picture: