The Wedding Reception


Sometimes I remember the time
I stole away from a wedding party
—a long celebration on a winter’s night—
made my way upstairs in that big house
and found a bed and fell upon it to rest
to let the party finish itself whenever
it would. The bedroom door opened

and the bride walked in, kicked off
her satin slippers, thunk, thunking
to the floor, she tossed aside her veil,
ghostlike it landed over a chair and she
joined me, still in her long bridal dress,
stretched out beside me exhausted
and we listened to the din below.

There we were both staring at the ceiling
with champagne muddled brains wishing
the people would leave.  What happened
to her bridal bouquet?

And maybe we both knew it was
an inauspicious start, the marriage
didn’t last.  I don’t recall her tossing
a bouquet. I do remember thinking
perhaps wedding receptions were
occasions when a bride and groom
should be the first to depart.



Published in Phrasings—In Word and Dance


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