Every bride on her back has better things to do
than to mix fortunes in a rain bowl for future selves wandering through
Stormy Mondays,
blessed Sundays,
or jars and boxes full of Tuesday afternoons.
Every bride finds altar cloths and silver maples
turning their dull sides up when anvil clouds get lofty and congregate
making her hair curl
and place cards swirl
while programs and old boyfriends drift and fidget by the gate.
______
for this.
Well Ms. Shay you pulled more out of this pic than I could. The bride is a runaway bride. That fidgeting by the gate says much of old lovers. The altar cloth and silver maples bespeak much of gifts piled up on display.
ReplyDeleteYou had me at hello with this one Shay!! I think like near accidents weddings do make our life flash before our eyes....what was and what will be can be on the forefront when our life is so on display before the world. This has a whimsical feel to it though and i love it!
ReplyDeleteI loved the last line of this poem, after my mom passed away several years ago we eventually went through several old photos she had tucked away. And, low and behold she had kept several old photos of her high school admires all with very flirty words from each one. This made me smile.
ReplyDeleteI think the first stanza is particularly well written and bitten. It paints a very pointed aspect, with startling to the eye/ear images, that tell a complete story in itself. Fascinating.
ReplyDeleteThose are the most amazing opening lines! Really love this one.
ReplyDelete