The Red-Dyed Shirt

Mary Rowen

She dresses tonight in a red-dyed shirt.
Gauzy fabric brushes her shoulders
Cool, sexy,
and perfect for a summer party.

She recalls when it was white:
Dancing, moonlight, kissing, wine.
“He’s so nice,” they said.

But the Sangria stains
on her white shirt
said something else.
Meanwhile she
said nothing.

Instead, she scrubbed the shirt
and bathed it in a vat of dye.
But nothing changed
until she talked.
Until she screamed.

And so, she wears the shirt tonight.
The stain remains
on close inspection.
But it’s a great red shirt,
and perfect for a summer party.

Photo Credit: dno1967b via Compfight cc

Written by 

Mary Rowen is a writer and blogger who often writes about women of various ages growing up or figuring out what they want from this world. She grew up in the Massachusetts Merrimack Valley, graduated from Providence College, and has worked as a teacher, marketing writer, and political canvasser. She lives in the Boston area with her husband, two teenage children, dog and cat.

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11 thoughts on “The Red-Dyed Shirt”

  9. When I read powerful poetry like this, I am always in awe of how simple, yet not-so-simple, words weaving a story in such a beautiful, albeit sad, flow. This is just beautiful.

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