Donald Justice 1925 -

Ode to a Dressmaker’s Dummy

 Papier-mache body; blue-and-black cotton 
     jersey cover. Metal stand. Instructions included. 
       
                             --Sears, Roebuck Catalogue

      

                   O my coy darling, still
                   You wear for me the scent
              Of those long afternoons we spent,
                    The two of us together,
         Safe in the attic from the jealous eyes
                      Of household spies
         And the remote buffooneries of the weather;
                              So high,
         Our sole remaining neighbor was the sky,
                   Which, often enough, at dusk,
         Leaning its cloudy shoulders on the sill,
     Used to regard us with a bored and cynical eye.

                   How like the terrified,
                   Shy figure of a bride
              You stood there then, without your clothes,
                       Drawn up into
              So classic and so strict a pose
           Almost, it seemed, our little attic grew
     Dark with the first charmed night of the honeymoon.
              Or was it only some obscure
           Shape of my mother’s youth I saw in you,
     There where the rude shadows of the afternoon
              Crept up your ankles and you stood
              Hiding your sex as best you could?--
              Prim ghost the evening light shone through.

 

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