Regular Poem: Happy Anniversary

she wears
a skirt suit
to toss her bouquet
a girl pelts them with rice
who’s got on actual bobby socks
and they drive off
in who knows
probably a studabaker
her taking off her tiny white gloves
him wearing a smart tweed sport coat
and giving the camera a rather dumbfounded stare
but she’s grinning
somebody probably said something
kinda naughty
and he’s the sweetest gentleman
and she’s well
she’s my alto buddy
who laughs and elbows me in the ribs when i say naughty stuff

i could say
i wish i would’ve been there
felt the cool metal of those folding chairs
in 1963
and watched as these two souls joined together
and fed each other cake
and were so young and handsome and full of unknown tomorrows

but that would be a half lie
and for all the naughty stuff i say
that she enjoys and indulges me in
i’m not a liar

i like them now
i like knowing them at this section
of life
and fawning over black and white photos
and hearing stories about all the vehicles they owned
when they lived in germany
and all the people
they kept
ridiculously and fortuitously running into there

seeing the hindsight
reveling in the miracles
identifying the stray pieces that God has quilted together

that only people
who have lived long and well and abundantly
can show you