Winter Wedding Poem by Pat Jourdan

Flashes of light at the church
in the darkening afternoon -
whiteness blazing.
A wedding crowd streams out as cameras flicker.
No need of confetti; snowflakes will do.
Like red ink a four o'clock sunset fills the sky.
She shivers; not quite; veiling screens her,
he comfort-kisses while photographers dash and huddle.
Euphoria grows as the carillon of bells
crashes across darkening marshland
where other seasons hide.

Onwards to four walls and a sky,
the afternoon spreads crimson
as an elderly woman loiters, then mooches
towards the brightly lit shops.
Now the sky is wild with colour -
the minister stands behind the whirling crowd,
a day's work done,
sending them out towards the widening road.