Wedding Day

The sun shone bright and clear that day,
	warming us,
	in an autumn sky high and blue.

We had nothing left to plan, no more details for fretting.

The recent stress lifted away; I felt lighter.

I stood in the door of the church, facing the altar, ready to “march,”
	elbows pulled tight to my body holding the weight of a cascading bouquet,
	my tulle-filled skirt skimmed just above my shoes and circled outward.

Light behind me, billowing silk floated me toward you.

My smile nearly giggles, stretched wide across my face.

I strode as a steady dance, lightened with each step.

You bounced on your toes, leaned forward.
	You had no idea what to do with your hands—clasped, unclasped, up to your chest, down by your sides.

When I arrived, you leaned in to kiss me before the ceremony began, garnering a sideways glance by the priest, our friend.

Then, a blur, and we were joining our friends and family.

We are married.