I picked it up in a Mexico market,
white, bleached cotton.
Later, after my surgery
I didn’t know I’d swell up like that.
This was something I could wear;
I could go out wearing it too.
I can’t remember when I last wore it,
but I keep it,
now tattered,
but still here.
The more I think about it,
it’s really a good symbol.
I visualize me in this dress in the fall,
out in the tomato patch.
