At Wilson Lake

Giant salsify

               a few dozen whirligigs

               bound together

               with gossamer threads

                              ready to spin

                              in the wind

               a child’s pinwheel


                              in a sticky hand

She picked wildflowers

               that morning

               for her wedding


                              leaping from rock

               to rock

               some Alpine sprite


               what caught her eye

                              in the rare ray

                              of sun between

                              morning showers

                              bound them

               with packing twine

               tied them together with

                              all her dreams

                              their sweet translucence

                              like the vows

She later spoke

               simple promises

                              flung from the cliff

                              above the water

               boats cutting their motors

                              circling to honor

                              what she pressed

                              so tightly to her heart