November, 2000

The Bride on the Morning of Her Wedding

©  by  Margerie Goggin Allen

I wake whole
and full of sunrise,

full of all the days
that will tumble toward me
one on top of the other,

like practiced muscles
propelling me
toward ecstasy.

Downstairs,
my mother is up already,
bustling.

I stay in bed
as long as I decently dare

and think about us,
this last morning without you,

and think about tomorrow,
the first day of the world.

Previously published in the North Carolina Poetry Society's
"Award Winning Poems, 2000"
Used with the permission of the Poet.

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