The marriage impulse and the nesting need
are rescued by some eager pretty friend
first out of gratitude who’ll condescend
to see us equally fulfilled and freed.
The hunger to descend on beauty’s flesh
meets in the midpath darkness with the urge
to wed in the finality of church
far sooner than promptings of the lash.
For men are few who dare make their own laws,
who need no shelter, stare into no soul,
but friendless and complete, who only pause
to hear us as they would a forest howl.
They feed upon no gratitude or fear,
nor do they know the tolling of the year.
Edward Wright Haile
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/zz-331-the-marriage-impulse/
