Joan Dance

Sewing for the spring parade 

Me in a green crepe paper dress
strewn with little sewn on plastic flowers. 
You told me I was spring. But why? I said.
Gift wrapped tightly and stitched into place. 

No fairy frock for me a March born child. 
Late motherhood for you. Was it spring again?
Or had you chanced on green crepe in a shop, 
then worked it with the treadle in a rush.

Today I drove a car full of my sons
steering our path through billowing hills,
minding the seams, gathering in green folds, 
past hedgerow flowers parading bright as plastic.
I thought of you. Foot down on the pedal 
driving on, sewing that girl alive.

In the past and in no special order Joan Dance has been a vintage clothing trader, a council events officer, a street markets inspector, a keyboard player in a band and an advertising copywriter. She has a history degree and has been writing poetry for a while.  She splits her time between London and Devon. Her poetry has appeared in Dreich magazine.