A Respite Most Welcome

Betsy Joseph

June 7, 2026

On the eve before my son was to wed

his chosen love on a beach in Kauai,

the weather had a different plan:

a tantrum building slowly,

powerfully in the North Pacific.

Between the mountains and the coast

the wind built, too, petulant and bold,

waves picking up the different beat,

pulsing more urgently than before.

A light mist settled in, clouds darkened.

The pale sun had no recourse but to withdraw

until the tantrum subsided.

Long-held plans for a beach wedding

wavered only slightly,

so certain the determination between

the two betrothed, so certain that even

a bullying wind could not deter the will

of two who had long envisioned the moment,

no matter a wind’s churlish behavior.

Yet the morning of, the sun rose softly,

tree leaves sparkled, and we sighed gratefully.

Last night’s wind became a breeze

sweetly lifting the lofty palms as we

assembled near the water’s edge.

Vows were exchanged, then kisses

followed by family hugs.

We all smiled with pleasure, then relief 

that the wind behind two days of showers

had ebbed, a gift to the newlyweds.

Betsy Joseph lives in Dallas and has poems which have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies. She is the author of two poetry books published by Lamar University Literary Press: Only So Many Autumns (2019) and Relatively Speaking (2022), a collaborative collection with her brother, poet Chip Dameron.