I ran into this tree
at my brother’s wedding,
I was so drunk. The bruise was funny green.
The tree? She had a game sense of humor.
The next morning she posed for a photo,
draped in autumn-orange.
I embarrassed her by asking,
and even more by complimenting
her dress thrifted from Vermont.
Like a fairytale princess (I said embarrassing)
she had dropped a saffron wrap at her feet,
and before she could retrieve it, or leave,
I snapped an inconsiderate picture—
though in real life, the gallant grounds-crew
raked everything up before the ceremony.
I didn’t bump into her again that trip.
I’m ashamed to admit, if not for the photo,
by Winter she would be barely recognizable.
Don’t get me wrong, she left an impression.
I don’t often get the chance to see her,
but she does get a ring once a year.