Blue Ribbon

There is a pristine whiteness to the lace
that takes me back to France.
To Paris, at the foot of the stairs
leading up to the Sacre Coeur.
There is a group of shops
of handmade lace linens, curtains and delicate under garments.
I have a few items I bought in this district
that I keep nestled in the back of my dresser drawer,
saving for those special occasions
when I want to feel pretty, feminine,…ready.
I thought at first it was the symbolic whiteness that he loved
that it was the color that brides wear, virgin white.
But after we were no longer a couple he wrote me
telling me he missed me and he was longingly remembering
the blue ribbon delicately woven through the white lace
around the décolletage. And I remember how he would
finger that ribbon and the little blue bows at the shoulder
and all this rushed back to me this morning
when my ring snagged some of that precious lace
and dragged to the surface the delicate garment along with the memories.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s