Sunday, 2 April 2017

The Dress Maker’s Daughter

by Lind Grant-Oyeye

Her hands hold spindles of memory
thread as thick as a bungee jumper’s cord,
on patches of ripped jeans.

She speaks in a voice, old like yesterday:
“Hem those rough edges with your
silky hands and feel the smoothness

of what is left on the outside.”
“Let decorative buttons cover
each hole, like sand covers the dead. ”

How she speaks as one who has fixed weak sheet
unto weak sheet, with the strength of old pins.
But I speak as one, who knows—

Even strong dresses, do not keep forever.

* * * * *

Lind Grant-Oyeye is an award winning poet of Nigerian descent. She has work published in literary magazines and anthologies worldwide.

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