The Witness

Crisp, White, Cotton Shirt.
Starched, Buttoned Collar.
Red Rose peeking from Grey breastpocket.

Smooth, Satin, Sheath dress.
Light, Pale, Creamy.
The Color of the Winter sky.

So clad, Stand before me Two.
Serious yet Smiling.
Bewildered yet Beguiling.

Tremulously happy,
Nerves on end,
Firm in their Resolve.

Two court clerks, on their lunch break,
Stand Witness to this maginificent Moment.
Looking bored, uninvolved.

Curiosity makes me Wonder
As they stand before me,
At the lack of Pomp, Circumstance.

No Gaggle of Giggling Bridesmaids,
No Inebriated, Insouciant Groomsmen,
No family members surround this couple.

Why am I here?
In this stuffy room,
On the sixth floor of town hall.

Joining them as One,
Getting to do the Honors.
The Answer lies, I know.

In her Teary Smile,
His Reassuring Squeeze of her Waist.
As they Walk Out.

To Face the World,
To Proclaim Themselves,
Lawfully One...

(2002)

This post was inspired by my parents and my uncle and his wife, two inter-religious couples who got married without parental approval and in civil ceremonies, attended by just a handful of friends/family. I admire both couples for that bold move, in the 70s and early 80s. Religion has never, ever been a source of conflict in either household, and my cousin and I have been brought up to do our own thing. For that, I am forever grateful.