Bridal Dressmaker

She asked me to make her a veil,
to shape yards of lace, of gauze'
to provide a final bit of mystery
of ceremony on her wedding day.
I clipped and cut, twisted and sewed
until at last the finished piece
was ready for her to try.
She walked into my workroom
at the appointed time.
I held up the veil.
In a slow, clipped voice she
announced, "There will be no wedding."
She grabbed the veil from me
Held it high for one moment,
then proceeded to
rend it into tiny pieces.
Gauzey bits floated about
my atelier, sad remnants
of a happy plan.
I did not want to ask her why—
she told me anyway.
"He had a secret life—another wife!"
She flung herself into my arms
bits of veiling clinging to
her blue dress. She had no need
of demure, ceremony, mystery.
I held her until she cried out
all her tears and pain.