Dancing the Hora

I wish I could remember

Ariel and Sarah,

holding hands and smiling

as they danced the hora,

at their children’s wedding.

I wish I could remember

the happy bride and groom,

their arms outstretched,

two silver birches

dancing in the wind.

What do I recall?

Ariel pouring red wine

on Sarah’s white lace dress,

Sarah smooshing ice cream

in Ariel’s powdered face.

What do I recall?

Joseph punching Isaac

for cheating him

in business

thirty years ago.

By the time the hora ended,

everyone was fighting,

the band had fled the party,

the wedding cake was flattened.

None of us is speaking,

the children are divorcing,

until we dance the hora

at another family wedding.

published in Sad Goose, republished on Medium