Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009

The Wedding Dress

by David Keyworth

Her Grandmother's ghost is troubling her once more.
She wakes to recall walking to school,
hymn book and boater in hand,
past her Grandparents' grave.
By the headless brides in the wedding shop,
she'd tell her friend she'd marry Carry Grant,
in the dress her Grandmother left her.
She'd arch her body, praying it would fit.
These days she has visions
of her Grandma rising in moonlight
shaking her head at the stained dress,
with its cuts and tears repaired,
hung up in the charity shop.
Other times she sees herself and her Grandmother
reborn as purse clutching, bare legged girls,
waltzing towards the new dances, arm in arm.

Added: 24.04.2009