The Wedding
He had brought me flowers.
roses. They were
darkest red.
Church bells tolled from behind
with golden sound;
bittersweet bittersweet.
He came to me, dressed in black;
in black with flowers
in his hand
roses. They were darkest red like
exotic dancers
adorned with crimson leaves.
A crowd was there;
people I knew
and
some were crying.
A man of God was there as
well. Reading from his book
of God. But
All I could see was him
dressed in black;
in black with flowers.
Copyright © Gael Attal | Year Posted 2009
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