She asked her father to walk her down the aisle
the second time.
Instead he wrote a letter.
She imagined him in a room.
She imagined him with a clean legal pad in front of him.
She imagined him, drink in hand
as he
formed the words,
the perfect words,
to hurl at her
like stones
that stung as they pounded against her heart,
leaving it bruised and
gouged and
beyond repair
It was easier she supposed to put in five pages his true sentiment.
Easier than to
just say no.
###
Poem by Pamela Tyree Griffin
Photograph/Graphic by Lynne Lancaster
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