Tarkhan Dress Poem by Ima Ryma

Buried, then dug up at Tarkhan,
A cemetery in Egypt.
Flax plant linen, I'd done a span,
Not wearing well inside the crypt.
But a new lease on life I got,
As modern humans studied me.
Somehow by ancient hand was wrought,
Stitched and pleated beautifully.
My arm creases would tend to show
Someone had worn me and worn well.
Who? The humans would like to know,
But I of course will never tell.

Five thousand years old, humans guess,
I am the oldest known found dress.