9-14-17

Maggie E. Winkler

  I asked him once What kind of tie he would wear To walk me down the aisle.   “Maggie, If I make it to your wedding I’ll wear whatever tie you Want me to.”   He wakes up on the floor Again. Still in the suit he left In yesterday morning.   He rises with the sun Despite the aches, And we go for a walk. We are silent and he is   Drunk. Convinced that every Wrong turn was a shortcut but Just took us further away from   Where we meant to end up. Hours later, the lobby is marble And polished. We track mud on The rugs and leave fingerprints   On the glass. The doors close He tells me, the same way he Did before, That I will be okay   After he is gone. Then the doors open. I get off the elevator and Walk down the aisle   Dressed in all white Lace, sweetheart neckline Veil covered eyes.   The elevator doors close As I reach the altar with No one there to hand me off. I am alone.   He rides the elevator down Without me and Does not come home.