Wedding Bell March

A soldier stumbles down the wedding aisle

Medals clinking against his daughter’s arm

His footsteps a mantra for cause worthwhile

His musket the bride’s smile, used to disarm

 

He marches in time with the wedding band

Tipping his hat at his fellow recruits

As though he had mistaken grains of sand

for nuptial rice rivers under his boots

 

To the battlefield, some semblance of hell

Is drawn in white ribbon on doctor’s blades

Death stands in the churchyard, clear as a bell

‘Tis only a wedding— he prays as pain fades.

 

He dreams of her future, catching the light

Alone at the aisle, a vision in white

Written from “A Defeated Soldier Wishes to Walk His Daughter down the Wedding Aisle”

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