Sunday Poetry

By alison February 13, 2011 8 Comments 0 Min Read

Thrift Shop Dresses
I slid the white louvers shut so I could stand in your closet
a little while among the throng of flowered dresses
you hadn’t worn in years, and touch the creases
on each of their sleeves that smelled of forgiveness
and even though you would still be alive a few more days
I knew they were ready to let themselves be
packed into liquor store boxes simply
because you had asked that of them,
and dropped at the door of the Salvation Army
without having noticed me
wrapping my arms around so many at once
that one slipped a big padded shoulder off of its hanger
as if to return the embrace.
Frannie Lindsay

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8 Comments

  1. Bluebell says:

    Goodness. This has really affected me and I need a little time to sit with this feeling. What a poignant poem. Thank you.

    1. Mary says:

      How beautiful and tragic.

  2. Bluebell says:

    Goodness. This has really affected me and I need a little time to sit with this feeling. What a poignant poem. Thank you.

  3. What a poem.I've never seen anything sadder than the day my husband ironed all my son's clothes before we sent them away.

  4. Sylvia Pelekane says:

    Fortunately, I found a great 're-use' store and I take all of my cast off treasures there. The owner knows not to show me anything….not one thing….sometimes I drop boxes on the porch and leave. No store credit, no exchange just love the store sooo much I do my part to keep it in business.

  5. Debbi says:

    I do believe my heart is bleeding a little now.

  6. Tracelaine says:

    This stopped me. Ohhhh, my granny's closet…

  7. Tracelaine says:

    This stopped me. Ohhhh, my granny's closet…

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