On that day, countless pictures
were taken of the entire spectacle.
There were photos of all kinds:
“poses,” “ambushes,” “rushed,” and
the occasional “completely unaware.”

The sky was cloudy, but it
didn’t remotely touch the mood,
going largely unnoticed. Cars
lined the streets of the arrivals,
ready to immortalize the moment.

My hair was freshly cut, as a request
from my brother. The focus was all
on him, but I was proudly at his side.
Our mother’s hair shined on us both,
though she was not allowed to attend.

My brother cracked a joke, and like
a reflex I gave him that disbelieving
look, but I was laughing with him.
I had his ring in my pocket, guarded,
safe in his trust in me.

His wife-to-be remarked that the way
he was with me, was unmatched by anyone.
The ceremony was soon, and it was clear
he had no negative thoughts. He was ready,
and I followed his lead, like always.