The Anniversary Poem by John F. McCullagh

fifty years to the day since she walked down this aisle;
The aisle of this church where he stood with a smile.
The organ swells now as the organ swelled then
but the music is played now by a different hand.
The Saints and the angels; they still look the same.
They've been cleaned and restored, each one, frame by frame.

Her matron of honor this time can't attend.
She moved down to Florida when Sandy blew in
The best man back then was her brother in law
but he died in the desert in the first Iraq war.
As she moves to the altar, her grown son has her arm
He is tall like her Father was, but Dad is long gone.

Her love waits at the Altar, dressed in his best clothes
in a bronze colored casket, in eternal repose.
On this anniversary of the day they were wed
this day she will hear a requiem instead.
Then later, instead of the bouquet, she knows
she's going to be tossing a single red rose.