The Wedding: February 26, 2000

In February in Florida all things seem possible:

spring lifts its arms and deer pick their delicate

way through thickening vines Butterflies

on their instinctive journey rest upon open azaleas

closed tight up north Double stars mated for life

like rare whooping cranes glide from east to west

through the clear skies of a new millennium

All of this partly mechanical: monarchs cranes

philodendron stars and deer all pulled

by gravity's attraction and the earth's

magnetic field along paths measured

and irregular: these accidents were meant to be

This morning the sun rose over the Bay

flattened like a wafer at the edges

partly obscured by smoke blowing from Bradenton

but up it came gilding the horizon

and the street where David and Megan

turn toward each other at the right moment

true as a compass the alchemy of their marriage

transmuting our ways and walks into a landscape

where every step is pulled in the right direction

each footprint dusted by weightless gold