The Miss Havisham Effect
It was years ago that I took this photograph of her.
She had found out the wedding was off — on the
very day! He wasn’t coming, didn’t want to marry
her after all. The doctor gave her a sedative. See
how languid her hand looks, almost as if she was
sleeping but she wasn’t, just staring straight ahead.
I had to clean the cigarette ash from the oriental
carpet; she could have burned the house down!
See how lovely her dress was, all the little flowers.
She wore that dress for months (well, years)
afterwards; she never left the house. I know, I was
with her. We were so close, don’t let anyone tell
you otherwise. She never did get over him leaving
her at the altar. She pined and pined for him. Such
sadness. I never left her after he jilted her. Not
that she ever thanked me. Or really ever noticed
me. How much I cared. Still, there was no one
else. Her ashes are there, on my mantel. Oh, I
have lots more photographs of her through the
years — would you like to see?
Tricia Marcella Cimera
This poem was written as part of the 20 Poem Challenge.
Tricia Marcella Cimera will forever be an obsessed reader and lover of words. Look for her work in these diverse places: Buddhist Poetry Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Foliate Oak, Fox Adoption, Hedgerow, I Am Not A Silent Poet, Mad Swirl, Silver Birch Press, Stepping Stones, Yellow Chair Review, and elsewhere. She has a micro collection of water-themed poems called THE SEA AND A RIVER on the Origami Poems Project website. Tricia believes there’s no place like her own backyard and has traveled the world (including Graceland). She lives with her husband and family of animals in Illinois / in a town called St. Charles / by a river named Fox.
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