Winding down a curvy gravel road
of Gatlinburg,
my adult daughter asked,
“Why doesn’t Daddy wear a wedding ring?”
Never liked jewelry he said when we
got mine. He pointed to his heart
and said his love lived there
not on his finger.
My dad never had one either
only wore his 1949 Penn State
rubyesque class ring for their 50 years.

Sauntering inside a silver craft jewelry
shop our convo continued.
Ringless the counter man was prey.
“Excuse me are you married?” I asked.
Deer in the headlights look but speechless.
Like a flash , a woman appeared from
yonder counter shouting ” Yes, he’s married!
Why do you ask?”
Startled I recounted our conversation.
“He lost his but is getting another!”
Poor man never got to speak.

In the car my daughter laughed,
“Mom, you got that man into deep shit!
A ring will be on his finger by noon!”