Meeting

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.