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A Wedding
Near-deserted lanes mid way up low hills
the sodden escarpments of unfashionable zones
unvisited by most who know of their existence
in this interlude when a shadow cajoles our attention
the damp hushed houses of this year’s departed
dust on shelves weeds between paving slabs
awaiting tidying up and reinvigoration
and the lengthy sigh of a decision reached
(starling darlings lingering watch unwatched)
among the personal effects in those corners
not accessed in a period compromised
by the seizing up of bones
and the disorder of failing and forgetfulness
an antique from the top of a wedding cake but whose?
two figures a bride and her groom
he minus his head his sacrifice
making them equal in height
(can mementos metamorphosize into voodoo dolls?)
how had he come to lose his head?
how was he relevant to the widower
in whose former home it was found?
who and when did they represent?
what I am to do now that this imperfected tribute
this broken inheritance is in my possession
the only one that has raised its head to me?
Perfect! Captures the feeling you sometimes experience when you contemplate a random discarded object and ponder its significance. " can mementos metamorphosize into voodoo dolls?" ?
Diolch Ceri.