Crab Orchard Review Vol. 12, No. 2, our

Sylvia’s Wedding Reception
Once inside the Chinese box,
a sedan chair heavily curtained
so the bride won’t see a widow,
the groomsmen hoist her into the air.
Gold ribbons dovetailing in the wind,
red fabric a river upon the sidewalk;
they carefully step over cracks, heelball-toe,
heel-ball-toe.
Perhaps she is a story
painted on a plate
with a single light stroke,
a gossamer sack of lotus seeds
and nutmeg, a ribbon wound
into her mother’s waist-length braid.
Everyone, restaurant patrons and relatives
of relatives, pretends surprise as she steps
out, one beaded slipper at a time.
Bowing before her husband, part-owner
of China Buffet and Putt-Putt Time,
her back is straight as legs bend
to a ‘less than’ sign.
I can see in her white knuckles
that she’s trying to get it right—
this ceremony her aunts talk-storied
while stuffing dumplings with crab
or hanging mirrors in the new house.
184 ◆ Crab Orchard Review
Leslie St. John