The Gown

It sat in the attic for years/ she unwrapped the box, anticipating

fabric, now ivory-yellow, and elastic crunchy with age / the gown

her mother had helped her choose it/ known from photographs

she had felt like a Renaissance lady/ slightly off-kilter

memories of a day long ago/ thoughts of the day to come

I give you my love, he said/  waiting for the moment

a vow made/ love ever after

for a man and a woman/ a daughter, now a wife

Love is love/ Love is love

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Brides and sisters

 

Marian Beaman of Plain and Fancy Girl wrote about a dress she had with a secret. You can read about it here. She challenged me to use the word “dress” as a writing prompt. I took the challenge, changed dress to gown, and wrote a cleave poem. Each side is a separate poem, and read together, there’s a third poem. My older daughter wore what had been my wedding gown when she married her wife almost two years ago. It’s now “our gown.” On their wedding days, both daughters wore the same necklace I wore when I got married.