In The Driveway In The Tucson Foothills There Were
a series of stones arranged in a semicircle
eight or so chairs, in two groups,
with white ribbon to create an aisle
eight or so people, most of whom were related
to one or the other of the celebrants,
plus Dave and Priscilla
some low cacti, which would come into play
after the ceremony when the bride
stepped out of the stone semicircle
and straight into the sharp spines
a CD boombox, probably the groom’s,
playing a Nat King Cole Trio CD,
definitely the groom’s
a justice of the peace in a dark suit,
with glasses and a mustache, who
turned out to take only cash,
causing the best man to ask the groom’s
grandfather if he had any on him,
which, thankfully, he did
two young people who barely knew
what they were doing, who could not see
that it wouldn’t last, who stood in the
semicircle of stones and hoped
that would be enough
/ / /
3 August 2023
Charlottesville VA
This is poem 13 in a series called 50 Days Till 50 Years. I’m writing a poem a day between now and my 50th birthday. I’m going to try to focus on memories of my past, and the people who inhabited it.
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