Her wedding day dawned crisp and chill,
with frost white on the ground,
A winter sun peered hazily,
Redbirds scraped and found
bits of grass and crumbs she’d tossed,
Out on the frozen lawn;
Squirrels scampered near to share
the bread that birds had found;
Her clothes were laid out on the bed,
A dress-chiffon and lace,
White gloves and shoes,
a little hat,
that framed her oval face.
Carefully, she dressed herself,
and thought about this day,
How long she had waited for–
Now wished it’d go away.
She knew it was a grave mistake,
But what else could she do?
everyone would be there, so –
She stuck a penny in her shoe.
Sandra Lee Smith
May 2, 2009; remembering December 6, 1958