The Day Of Her Leaving
the day of her leaving
it's a bit battered now
but I remember it when it was pristine
pages almost sticking together as they opened for the first time
faces inside
staring back
unaware of time passing
monochrome memories
family, relatives, confetti, suits, shiny shoes
daft hairstyles back-combed into oblivion
me as a small boy
laughing at my sister
in white,
bridesmaids at her rear
this was the day of her leaving
joe,steven
mum,dad, posing awakwardly
makes me sad to see glenis again
immaculate eyeliner
self deprecatory smile
following behind
not wanting to look directly into the lens
monochrome memories
the vicar closes the wooden doors
as his fan club arrives to tidy up
pews with scratched in names by bored children
sit, dumb
waiting for the sunday morning brigade
to march past with open mouths and hearts
this is the body of christ
this was the day of her leaving
barrels of beer are loaded into the pub
people shout,laugh,talk too loudly,
speeches are made,
flrtatious glances and reddening cheeks
lovely grub joe!
Proper mash this!
monochrome memories
the last of the cake is wrapped in gaudy napkins
as relatives we may never see again
smile and cram into taxis
a flood of aunties pass me by
patting my head
until the next family occasion necessitates their presence
this was the day of her leaving
back in the house
her bed is empty
illuminated inconsiderately by the sun
traces of her make up
smeared across the old wooden drawers
provides a brief reprieve
monochrome memories
no more unbridled laughter
no one there to understand me
no one there to teach me how to draw
or make paper chains at christmas
no one there to stick up for me
despite landing in trouble herself
this was the day of her leaving
this was the day of her leaving
Frances Macaulay Forde
Fri 26th Jan 2018 23:15
Sweetly moving.