The Wedding

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

She sat on an iron bench,
Amongst a coop of yew trees.
A faceless man sat by her side.
She smiled and the man faded.

Further down the dale, in a shallow river,
I looked for shiny pebbles
To give my love, but sensed
The faceless’ presence as a hurried
Shadow across a cloudless sky.

Saddened by the foretold, I gave
The river back its glimmer; walked away
And not once turned around
To see what had become of my bride.