standing in a sea of cloud

in love
you ask for a photograph
most often
with both of you in it
then a third appears
to take it
with a hesitant smile

you stand with arms around
cheeks touching
outside a church
enveloped in Fall
and an angled evening sun
the Organ plays
with the wedding inside
but you cannot giggle
too loud
for you might disturb
those within
even when the voyeur
suggests cheesy smiles
that would be difficult
without
an accompanying
giggle

wrapped around a bridge post
we twitter thanks to the Troubadour
who gazes wistfully
at the wedding couple
while brushing a dragonfly
off his toupee
and talking about his love
for the sea
and boats
and then
of his forty three year old
girlfriend
who has gone to Vegas
with the girls, while he cycles
across the nether lands

a cow standing in a sea of cloud
in the flat-lands, is his most cherished memory
looking at the picture
finger smudge printed
on the camera's digital back
of our frozen giggles
he shrugs

"you are the only ones
i have spoken to
today"

the Organ's pipes in deep rumble herald rain
over the bridge, we cross, holding hands
as the newly married, screeching tires, clanging cans
wave past
with stretched smiles

the dragonfly distances deviously
to hover follow
the Troubadour's toupee
as he mounts to cycle
under grey dark skies
towards the sea
of cloud, where the cow stands