Morning Vigil

I awake, as the sun
stretches himself
in the morning sky.

Frost etches my window
and forms patterns
that dance across my carpet.

On the chair
a veil,
draped, dainty, gossamer,
shimmers in the early light,

And there,
suspended,
my gown,
as white as a winter dawn.

All is quiet.
This moment mine alone,
shared perhaps with only one.

Is he awake, listening
to the silence,
shivering with nervousness
as I am now?

I hear voices.
The others awake.
My vigil is ended.
My wedding day begins.

by Beatrice Dahlen

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