“Only people of a certain disposition are frightened
                        of being alone for the rest of their lives”
 

                                                    –       Rob Gordon, High Fidelity  

Liftgate lowers; last equipment carried, stacked, accounted;
spatter of rain fights gravity, flung against your exposed neck,
your tie long-since loosened, top buttons undone
to let your skin breathe.  Fresh water mixes with salt-sweat
trickling down your chest, underneath your clothes. You climb
behind the wheel, muscles aching, heart still
throbbing—from the sound, the adrenaline; everyone else left
an hour before you–venues painted red by taillights;
thoughts lingering in word bubbles from the past
half hour…            

                    “You guys have been great tonight.  Hope you had fun,”                                                

                                      “Headed off to a honeymoon?  Safe travels and thank you                                                           
                                               for trusting me with your big day.”

                              “No, thank you.  For letting me share in this day with
you.”

             “No problem.  Really.  Glad you liked it; it’s a special song to me too.”

The dashed-line bubbles pursue; ghosts along the road home;
darkness and more taillights—the ones you didn’t say…

                         “I really hope you beat the odds.”

                                                             “Remember today.  When it gets rough.”

             “Don’t ever stop fighting for what matters.”

                                     “I’d rather not play that one…it reminds me of her.”

So much magic, so much finery.  So much money.  So many couples–
dancing, holding, kissing,
in love.                       

                    It reminds you that there is someone for everyone.
                    Nobody goes to a wedding
                    alone.

The road stretches in front of you.  Hidden horizon.  Twenty minutes left
in the day.  But you’ll arrive
tomorrow.

 Alone.                                                                                                                         
                                    
                                                                                                            Until it’s time

to do it again.