before the wedding when we see
the groom
and bride
to be
in their shorts
and sweatshirts,
out for a run, now
at the breakfast table,
nervously drinking coffee.
they look
young.
tired, bewildered by it all.
they look
out window
at the stage, the food arriving,
the guests,
the band,
the rising tents.
the mother, with a wand,
the maestro of it
all
in command.
her voice echoing across
the blue
Virginia hills.
the father sitting on a stone
wall,
writing
another check.
tomorrow it begins.
No comments:
Post a Comment