The sun descends on the city lit horizon.
Buildings glow in the dimming light,
reflect rays of warmth onto
an already glowing bride,
her cheeks increasingly pinkish
with blush and emotion
as she stands under the Hoopa, dressed
in white ornamented silk with hair curled;
strands threaded together tight
not unlike the silver Claddaugh ring
about to descend her finger.

So special is this one moment
she dares not breath,
dares not blink.
takes in every aroma
around her:
sea salt from the bay
and sweet cake from
the celebration inside;
sensitive to the most
minute movement of silver sliding
onto skin, each hair sliding back
in ecstatic submission to the
welcomed new resident.

Dozens watch but this moment is theirs
as they give themselves to each other
with ancient phrases repeated throughout time;
this time it is theirs to say and theirs to hear
and theirs to remember, etch deep into
their memory, forever.