Tear

There is a tear in an old wedding dress Hidden away in a box in the attack, Covered in cobwebs, And collecting dust. The dress is carefully lifted from it tissue paper tomb To be admired by the grandchildren Who trace it’s silken edges with their fingers They hold it up to their chest And imagine what it would be like To wear it. The grandmother eyes the tear with distaste She gently brushes off the cobwebs And vows to repair the hole. Somehow she will never get around to it. The grandchildren are easily distracted, They are more interested in the moose antlers Hung on the wall, And the large half covered painting of a naked woman. Soon they run back down stairs, The novelty of the attic beginning to wear off. The grandmother watches them leave, A weary smile on her face She kneels in the dust of the attic, As she pulls the faded dress to her chest. Tears fall on the dress in the attic. 4/13/2023 Writing Challenge "T" words Constance La France