We wait for the bride among strangers,
two sisters standing beside a picket fence.
We’re dressed in crisp, white, starched blouses
with ruffled collars and matching jumpers.
I lost a brass button somewhere,
my bangs are too short, and
I peer through my glasses
with a slight smile.
I remember waking later that night,
open suitcases in every room,
then driving through darkness,
mother glad to leave California.
I would not see my father for two decades,
I keep this photo yet, me hopeful, yearning,
my sister hesitant, as if she knew
what was coming.
Today's prompt for Octpowrimo (a poem a day throughout the month of October) asks us to remember the past, to dig down to early memories. I still feel like that bespectacled girl in the photo, long neck arched forward, a slight smile and hopeful.