I don’t want to put my wedding
dress away. I look at its silk
embroidered bodice, and see
the wet green lawn, our guests,
my daughter in the bedroom mirror,
weaving the last flower into my hair.
I look at my cream-colored dress
as a window, still left open,
though time cannot pass through.
Those few hours –– the getting ready,
ceremony in the woods, reception
on the lawn –– is all it will ever have.
Imagine, “always” and “forever”
in our closet hanging.