Dogwood petals should be lining
The sidewalks like wedding aisles,
Instead, the snow in April has other plans
Freezing the tiny crosses just in time for Easter.
There won't be dogwoods or snow when families gather
For our union, just garden flowers and ivy
Inching up the old church wall.
It won't be June or May or any other
Month that could be a child's name,
When baritone bells chime summoning
Everyone to see the bride and groom descending
Scornfully she will stare through her nylon veil
Knowing that once she walks to the altar
All expectations will be on her.
What if she is content with a county courthouse?
Wearing no gown but a sundress of all colors,
Her groom in kakis and a polo shirt smiling.
In their minds it means the same thing.