Wedding Day

It was a highly orchestrated,

carefully determined day and time,

and after the tirade in the temple

moved the money changers to Wall Street,

and after the Tower of Babel fell, and the

cacophy of voices rang out from the 

Upper East side, this was certainly the

perfect place, the only place for his wedding.

 

He stares into the sky, a hesitant

bridegroom awaiting his bride. Does she

come on the wings of a dove or by plane?

No, by now the skies are empty of

all but smoke and shiny confetti

falling like rocks from the mouth

of a bulldozer. The glint of gold

a halo. But blousy white wings, 

thickly coated in soot and ash,

no longer fly. In flashes of red

yellow, orange, he sees the quilt

covering his bed when a boy of

eleven. King David's Crown, a

gift from his grandmother.

 

He thought he would be a

bachelor all of his days, but

transfixed in this moment of

joy and apprehension, he greets

his beloved with a kiss, and the

two become one flesh on this

hard city street.

Notes: 

Poetic Asides Prompt: Day 10

For today's prompt, write a horror poem. Make it scary. Make it cheesy. Make it funny. Whatever you do, link it somehow to horror.

I'm not sure this qualifies as "horror," but I've certainly never felt more scared than I was that day.