No Reservations
A woman stands before me,
tears flowing from swollen sockets,
streaks shadowed by a thin veil.
A full congregation,
tissues in hand, for some will weep.
Their eyes transfixed forward,
I am the focus of their attention.
A pastor’s offering
beckoning a wanted response.
In this vast Cathedral
sighs echo.
What eerie silence within this moment
before the words, “I do.”
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
