I stumbled in high heels
across the wood chips
of the Christmas-tree farm
to take my place with the other guests
under coarse pine boughs.
In a coned damsel cap
the bride glimmered
through the woods, materialized
at the altar microphone.
In the barbecue line
his mother whispered on my neck,
“I thought you would be the one!”
I watched the bride and groom
shake hands, stared at his profile
til it buzzed, remembering
2 a.m. behind the high school
when we rocked on a blanket
rubbing jeans into jeans
until the moon jumped and I fell
off the hill slowly, a diamond in glycerine.
I remember walking down a road to meet him,
how the air tingled, in love
with how I looked in my underwear,
dancing in front of his mirror.
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Thanks to Alison McGhee for her curation of these beautiful poems.
I could not find any recent information on Emily Rechnitz and her poetry – anyone out there in the know, please update me.
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