WEDDING IN THE SMOKIES (12-99)

Outside the chapel

of cedar and pine

the fir and spruce trees

sway in the early December wind

like lovers locked in the reverie

of the evening’s last slow dance



Inside the chapel

there is an unexpected sterility

a house of worship unblemished

by icons and symbols

as though one worships

only what is in one’s heart



On either side of the center aisle

sit four pews

lightly populated by family and friends

who, with the whir and click of cameras

record the ceremony

within the rough-hewn simplicity

framed by four walls of Appalchian pine

so rustically built that drops of sunlight

like prying, curious eyes

spiral through the cracks



On this pristine Saturday morning

a bond is being forged

by two people in love

embarking on their own frontier

with vows taken and rings exchanged



And as a waterfall drizzles down the hillside

and a light breeze lassoes

the stubborn fir branches

two lovers step outside

their loved sealed and nestled

in the bosom of the Smoky Mountains