Rust on My Wedding Band

There's a crack in the porch where the rain comes through. An old mason

jar holding last night's dew. The paint on the shutters is peeling thin.

Like the years on my heart wearing my skin. But I still

hear her laugh in the breeze through the pines. And I still see her face

when the porch light shines. The rust on my wedding band tells the story

of a steady hand. Through the storms and the summer sun.

Through the battles lost and the battles won. It ain't perfect but it still

stands. Just like the rust, on my wedding band.