who could forget the rabbi, lost in the field,
my groom searching for him while we set the tables
in my sister's garden.
My mother's absent eyes,
still mourning her mother's death,
and the dress I made from silk, and the shoes,
oh, those sandals from Rome. Where are they now?
I remember, though it was long ago
that he was barefoot, his shirt buttons undone
the summer heat upon us, heavy all night long
and how we danced, danced
and my sister sitting with her bad leg in a cast
I must have been confused and worried, but I smiled,
I danced, I ate the good food, I had a fun party.
the one thing I can't remember now: was I happy?