Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

Long before Bridezilla
brides were Bridezillas
it was, and so was she.
Finger wagging certainty knew what she wanted –
especially this
absolutely no children.
Forbidden
Prohibited
Excluded –
don’t even think of asking.
She said a wedding is no place for those lacking awareness,
they fidget
they call out
they talk
they distract.
It was her day and her call… so just get over it.

A decade and two children later
a good friend sends an invite to her nuptials
gold lettered RSVP
at the bottom no children please.
“ Who does she think she is,
telling me my children can’t go.
Well I damn well won’t either.” And she didn’t.

An unplanned detour
roadworks, follow the orange signs and orange cones,
to an orange suited man with a red sign.
STOP …. and stay stopped …
… cycling, easy to dismount and walk –
past a bakery … those smells !!
Inside the owner ….. baker, kitchen hand, checkout operator
all of some, parts of others.
It’s the first day …. the stuff is good, very good
we chat, her name is the same as my loved one
and had immigrated from the same country
so perhaps empathy was conscripted.

Over the next few years I would often swing by
pick something up
and she would always tell the shop – “ he was here on the first day,
was one of my first customers.”

Word got around
expansion ….
invited to ground floor of a glass block
captive government departments and professionals
stainless steel and bifold doors.

She’d told me to check out the new place –
life, cluttered at the time … 3 months before I did.
Designer clothing and mode hair, tablets and iPhones
smart devices, smart chat, smart people,
no cyclists, or mothers with buggies
or tradies popping in because they remember working nearby and ….
Business is good, very good,
eye contact …. she shows no recognition
then leaves the counter, the kitchen door swings closed.
She might have been preoccupied or distracted …
perhaps the next time – I didn’t know – I never went back.

Youth,
exclusive and exclusionary
the property of those who are
binary
like being a smoker, you are or aren’t
someone is, or isn’t.
I always had been.
A cousin’s wedding, must end at midnight
the young going out afterwards –
clubbing.
I wait for the invitation
it doesn’t arrive.
The young have decided, I no longer am.