White Hydrangea

I can't remember the songs I chose,

Or when it was, 

Who exactly was in the audience.

But I remember my dress:

Black with Aztec 

Diamond streams, strapless, 

Skirts to the floor - 

Because I held your bouquet of flowers against it under the spotlight

For the first time.

It was an extension of me - 

I cradled perfumed dreams

In plastic skirts that night,

My arms held film memories,

Revealed in white hydrangea 

Of applause and rewards on stage.

How many times had I performed 

And never felt this way?

All because you

Gave me flowers.

LJ Ireton 

2022