As her fingers very slowly scratched the seam of the couch,
She began to tell us a story
It was about a beautiful house
As it got moved,
It reminded her of a doll house on wheels
It was the day of the wedding,
And she was the flower girl
Have you ever noticed weddings?
How it is such a beautiful sight?
It was just like that
But she had to stay,
And pick up every rose pedal on the ground
Soon after the wedding, the civil war started
Then she started to tell us about the noises
The noises you would hear
People shouting,
“Stop the Blood!” or “Get rid of the blood quick!”
She starts talking about the house again
When one day at a certain moment
The old, stained cabinet door would open
It was one of those crazy ghost stories
That we heard quite often
Suddenly, the story got interrupted by the sound of construction
It was the loud sound of nails getting hammered
There was also the sound of a person cutting down a tree
Getting back to the story she began to tell us about her grandfather
About all the times he would develop pictures
There would be love letters waiting for him in that room
The story got interrupted again
It was the sound of the doorbell
Our mom was coming to pick us up
As we say our goodbyes we think of the story she just told us
As we look around Beaufort
We notice how this place is like a wedding year round
Sometimes it is hard to see that
But it lies right in front of our eyes
You just need to look beyond the weather
What makes Beaufort like a wedding is not the weather
But Beaufort itself.
