The Wedding
The church is darkened and still.
A candle flame is the only light.
The pews are empty. A chill
Runs up my spine. This night
Is strange and mystery is about.
I want to run from here.
Everything in me wants to shout
Run, run. I smell the fear.
The fear is mine.
The organ begins the wedding march
Fear and sickness combine.
My throat is parch.
I need water to quench my thirst.
There is only wine on the alter.
Dare I drink some first,
Before the two? I start then falter.
Lights, first dim then bright
Fill the room
Vanishing my fright.
Bride and groom
appear suddenly out of nowhere.
The minister appears
Recites a prayer.
The end to this wedding rite nears.
They exchange vows
And leave the church together.
The minister bows,
Picks up a white feather,
And leaves through the door.
Strange, I think to myself.
The church is as it was before.
I think I'll put this dream on the shelf.

Copyright © 2005 Lunaria (Lila May Guptill)