Wedding Dress

A street with gas-inflamed streets,

Sides competing for room with the crammed stores, one-by-one, down the road

I go,

And there it is,

In the window of another shop,

It's that glorious tribute to a past we've


Or otherwise ignored,

With no consideration to the beauty it once held.

And I sigh because the symbolic wrap of grace is something I may never pursue, but might


In a fast-written tale of how I see it,

That elegance,

That shimmer,

That can make man wish

To behold such a treasure before him,

Of quiet purity

And understanding,

And can make any woman

Put a hand to her heart and hope

For a chance at that



And grace.

For a chance to wear a wedding dress.