The Wedding Photo.

[dadio]

Is this you in the wedding
Photograph? Yes. St Mark’s church.
1951. Late June.
Your hair looks nice, and the dress

Looks fine. Not mine. It was the
One my mother wore and her
Mother before her. A white
Handed down family gift

For marriages that end in
Doom. Your husband looks dapper
Hanging onto your arm like
Grim death. Don’t waste you breath on

Him he’s gone now. Was he no
Good? He thought he was the dog’s
Dinner but he was the pig’s
Backside and no mistake. Gone

You say? Dead? Long since and no
Regrets. Why keep the photo
If it was bad? To remind
Me of that fateful day and

His thin sickly smile. Why so?
Why keep it thus? To remind
Me of his premature death,
The grimfaced miserable cuss.


Poem Written in 2008.

[justwalt]

arrangements made,
Invitations sent...
it was his charade,
and her lament...

typically true,
save advice and consent,
so says the shrew...
of the departed gent

[dadio]

Thank you, justwalt.