The Country Weddding

The Country Weddding



Dry crack
grass
under my feet
listens.
Sounds of cars
dusk settle into
me
seems like
I knew
The silhouettes
of trees were the
same
in a severely
Midwestern summer
murmur
the leaves
against
bride and groom
peach fuzz sky heart
evening.

We went away
rouges
from the wedding
party
‘hush’
you said
using your
treasure hunting voice
and slid
into the backseat.
I stared at the
remnants
of an old school house
you could hear
me breathing
under the apple tree
before the
best man’s toast
just listening to the
ebony body
of a cricket
and the marriage
of smoke to air
we cannot know
until we stand there
too.

Pencil black bark
Crisp dry
dry to dry to
parch
thank him for your child today
and the fact
that you weep
and
mean it.