The White Dress Poem by Suki Nakamura
The White Dress
the white dress of my youth
is stained. Mother tries to wash it clean.
Three times she laundries it
Puts bleaching agent.
Hangs it under the sun.
It gleams. She smells it.
It's clean and scented
and shiny white now.
I wear it like a new dress.
But the feeling that it is dirty
still remains.
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4/25/2024 4:25:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
