This is a poem about the dress I wore at graduation from high school.
Most women,
I suspect,
wear one dress
(or two, perhaps)
that lingers in memory
as perfection,
a gift-wrapped
pearl,
one crystalline stitch
in time.
Mine
was white cotton,
gossamer-
with sleeveless bodice
of delicate pleats
tightly
cinched
at the waist,
cascading in gentle folds
to just below the knee.
Twirling before the mirror
I could find no fault
in my reflection-
a rarity, I dare say,
in the feminine psyche.
Graduation day,
threshold to the time of milk and honey
and I was Aphrodite,
Cinderella,
cloaked in clarity
with one glass slipper atop
the translucent pattern
that paved the road ahead.
~~~ Pam Patterson 6/30/10
