A DIFFERENT DRESS (by Hazel Palmer)

I shall be wearing
a different dress.
I’m used to this one –
very comfortable it was,
though not so any more –
and sometimes the removing
and the putting on
seem, from here
and now,
a tearing, a splitting,
or something like an amputation.
But there can be no question
that we shall recognise each other.
We’ll just be wearing
different clothes,
that’s all.

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