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Dec 2018
Her mother's dress
lay on the bed;
full length,
a silky green.

She runs her fingers
over it; feels the silky
smoothness against
her chilled skin.

It was in her
mother's wardrobe,
among other dresses
and coats and hats
which no woman
wears anymore,
and old shoes
on the floor.

But that dress
stands out
in her memory;
her mother twirling
around and around,
giving off
that excited,
young girl sound.

The dress
made a swish sound
as her mother
walked about;
it seemed to
let off sparkles
in the artificial light.

Who bought her
the dress?
Father hadn't:
he wasn't the type
for that kind of thing;
it may have been
the man her mother
called Uncle Will;
he came when Father
was out for the day or away.

He seemed the type
to purchase gifts,
gifts at a price,
always wanting
something
in return.

She lifts the dress
and sniffs;
it smells of stale
scent and age.

Her mother
wore the dress
to the show
he took her to see-
Father away someplace-
but while Mother bathed
and got dressed
and ready to go,
he invaded me...

She screws up
the dress,
and throws it
in the black sack
with the other stuff:
the old fashioned,
smooth and rough.

The dress is
out of sight,
packed away
for the charity shop
far away
from her own town.

The wardrobe
and the house
are empty;
she locks up
and takes the keys
to the agent to sell.

But as she
gets in her car,
she notices
the dress's smell.
A woman and her mother's dress
Terry Collett
Written by
Terry Collett  71/M/England
(71/M/England)   
770
     Traveler
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