The three of us flew out to Maine (via Boston) with non-fiction writer David LeGault and his wife and brother-in-law for a fellow (former) MFAer's wedding. Maine and its furrowed shoreline is new to this little threesome, though if one were to unfold the family wings just one generation upwards, we would find that Maine has one of those inked hearts over it in my parents' album--it was the state of their honeymoon.
The ceremony was at a charming art museum with a view of the ocean. The wedding was to be outdoors, but with a weekend of alternating mist, fog, and drizzle, the couple instead said I do amongst statues and sketches, sending rehearsal memories slightly off-kilter. All went smoothly; I suppose some of that was the custom of classroom adaptation and quick-thinking; the lesson plan was changing.
This was supposed to be my wedding cake, by the way. I kept photographs I'd found in a document on my desktop of book-cakes. Ryan and I discussed which book titles we might have chosen (Colleen and Bart did well: I love The Taming of the Shrew, and, of course, To the Lighthouse was incredibly fitting with the landscape, and a nice, fat book of poetry as the base), though we opted for a plain cake, which Ryan used as an opportunity for surprise adornments. This cake, vegan spice and vegan lemon, was delicious and Maya's first cake. She didn't even miss the eggs.
And, for the record, I've since gotten my book cake.
Colleen and Bart sent me on an Easter egg hunt of sorts--poems about love and companionship on book stands throughout the museum. Colleen's thesis lingered in the crumbling graveyards, so these little stones, tablets of sorts, were nice totems, though not beyond till death do us part to connect her macabre theme to this day.
The ceremony was charming and sweet and incredibly family-oriented. Bart's brother officiated and another brother read his own translation of Ovid; there was also a reading of Whitman and cummings. The couple read their own vows and Colleen misted to match the panorama.
The next morning we slept a bit while the LeGaults hot-tubbed, then we walked in shallow puddles to collect coffee and hot chocolate and one last glimpse of the shore with its white-caps and the fade between water and sky.
Congratulations to Colleen and Bart. I hope for a poetry field trip to Atlanta, bringing "the other" Colleen and Meryl with me. This Colleen is one of the collective working at collaborative poetry, the one that was born a few weeks ago when we talked about permission over bowls of ginger-carrot soup.
On roots + wings, to get your Maya-fill: day 1, day 2, day 3.
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