On this day
I remember a ghost anniversary,
the day in 1976
when my sister was married.
My 12 year old figure was
encased in my mother’s girdle
beneath a hideous rust bridesmaid gown.
I sported a new Vidal Sasoon bob,
felt bold and grown up with
my uni-brow plucked.
I remember my father’s scowl
when a groomsman with waist length hair
obeying rattling spoons, bent to kiss me,
and the resulting blush.
The marriage lasted four years.
My daughter wore the hideous dress
when she was twelve.
She called herself a princess;
rust suits her.
Too bad my sister
never saw it.
.
.
.
You know, that whole girdle thing is really weird. I was not a pudgy child by any reckoning. I probably weighed about 95 lbs around the time of this wedding. I recall it was my idea, so I must have been self-conscious of a little paunch, which at 12, was not paunch at all. Very strange how girls are, isn’t it?
.
I looked for the wedding photos in the album, but it looks like I took them out of those photo eating ‘magnetic’ glued albums, and who knows where I put them. Sorry!
Shawn L. Bird 
Love this, could you check out my blog I’d really appreciate it 🙂
Done. Thanks for stopping by!
All kinds of stuff going on here.
There is…
Very nice. Strong images and a touching narrative that’s almost unnerving. Well done. 🙂
Thank you.
The past keeps popping up, but at least you can’t blame the dress for anything!!!
Not that one!
My condolences, Shawn. I can just imagine your father’s simmering anger at that little stunt.
lol He was always very protective of his only child. 😉
This is such an honest open sweet sad poem. You quickly brought this reader in to your poem> I could really feel your emotions in this one. You are an incredible poet!
Thank you very much, Kevin. I appreciate your kind words.
Will you ever sport a Vidal Sasoon bob again? Thank you for sharing with us Shawn 🙂
😉
I have worn one off and on, but it’s a little severe. I prefer layers these days.
🙂
I’m boggled by you being 12 in 1976!! From your photo you shouldn’t even be born then!! You look wayyyy too young!
Well, I’m still really about 18. I just spin in my own little time sphere. 😉 I should look for a photo from the wedding to add to this. I probably have one somewhere.
Really deep and eerie at the end.
Thanks.
I love this! Why didn’t your sister see it? Feel free to not answer, I’m just curious…I have two sisters and sometimes it’s such a difficult dynamic that I purposely do not share certain things with them. I’m wondering if it’s one of those situations for you, or did you lose your sister? Is she no longer with us?
She moved. I’ve seen her about 4 times since my daughter was born, generally because I made the effort to see her.
Ahh, I see, a complex sisterly dynamic! I discovered in my adulthood that I have never been as close to anyone else, and I have never been so disappointed (enraged, saddened, indignant, envious, competitive) as I have been with my sister. Best friend and worst enemy.
My sister is 12 years older than I am, and moved away when I was about 6. She wasn’t around much. She had 3 daughters, and they’ve kept her pretty busy. She lives with one and looks after the grandkids.
SNAP SNAP SNAP
Thanks, Timothy!
Very interesting poem, it drew me right in. Nice! As far as “how girls are”, I really tend to think it’s society that tells us we can’t have any bulges on our bodies…
Breasts and hips are bulges…
Haha that’s true. I guess I was referring to the “paunch” you mentioned.
I’m loving this, you paint the images very well with your words 🙂
Thank you, Rose.
Oh yes, the uni-brow, the bane of my Russian heritage. Thanks for liking my poems and all the look-sees. You captured your wasted, now rusty day, quite well.
Thanks, Kitt.
🙂 At least I never had to deal with a moustache. 😉 (Well, at least not one growing on MY face). 😉