Cecelia and Brett,

these vows, they are ancient echoes,
hieroglyphics we've heard on many walls
before Us

in language long forgotten;
they are mystery remembered
among familiar tongue

they feel like places
and things we've known before...

...they are not why we're here


these echoes, they are guests
drawn here like the rest of us
with an envelope

finding an opening, a sound,
becoming too loud
to resist repitition

and temptation to steal the final scene
though, even they know...

...they are not why we're here


these guests, they were not witness
to the days that: dressed this afternoon
in white

nor the calendars of foggy mornings
nor the sleepless, moonless nights
these were yours alone

but we caught glimpses
and took hats off our heads as you passed

such things, that need no words to hold the bow
such things, require pomp
             and circumstance

so here we are.




wb