A Moment Passed, A Memory Made

The smell of rich, worn leather, timber church pews, aged and bowed
And the combined scent of musky women’s perfume.
This is how she would have felt, I’m sure.
She casts her head gently sideways in awe of the graceful bride
Slowly sweeping down the aisle, adorned in ivory lace and pearls-
Clutching at her father’s arm.
She can hear the wise old priest entering the lovers into the institute of marriage.
She sees them exchange rings;
Vows-
Hearts.
Her heart swelling like the ocean- she swallows hard; containing the tears.
She reaches for her overused tissue out of the breast of her dress
Of broderie anglaise and sheer navy; splashed with floral white print
Complete with a matching bolero.
She joins her daughter in jubilation.
In the photos the memories are lucid for eternity
And in me-
The dress, passed on by my grandmother
Until I do the same.