Prom

Stroking the nap of burgundy velvet

I search out my daughter

amongst the rows of tulle and rayon.

You would look lovely in this Sweetheart.

The dress hangs like a caress

over breast and curve of thigh,

smooth unblemished skin glowing

under pale florescent lights.

I catch sight of myself,

mother of the party girl

lumped in fleece and jeans.

Her reflected eyes meet mine,

I try and smile

but only manage a grimace.