The Last Wedding

Spring barely chases the ice or snow away.
Icecicles still cling to brittle branches.
The horizion only a wan bruise of red.
The ground is muddy with half melted snow.
Life still moves on.
She stands in her wedding dress of plain cotton,
her head crowned by dried blossoms.
She walks towards me, still happy in this moment.
The fired barely warm the chill hall.
We are making our vows even in this cold time.
Life still moves on.
And we make our home by the sea.
Our little place to hide in the night.
We hold each tight as we sit at the fire.
She is still not carrying a child.
Live still moves on.
And as winter comes again with frost,
we still hang on so pecariously.
Trying to keep warm and fed and happy.
Trying to hold hope still for whatever tomorrow.
Life still moves on.
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