Ennui

ENNUI

A dull November day in my nineteenth year.
I am sitting in my Grandma’s stuffy front parlour,
listening to even more stuffy conversation.
My mind longs to fly free on the wind but
is anchored, like me, to the overstuffed chair.
My grey serge Sunday dress is too tight at the
neck, the waist, and sleeves: Constricting.
I dare not move. My face is solemn, plain,
and as unadorned as my dress. It feels stiff
as I try co concentrate on the Vicar’s homily.
I pretend I am posing, a formal portrait,
has the artist done me justice ? Can you see?
A stiff girl, in a stiff dress, in a stiff parlour.
Time will judge. I just want to be gone from here.


©2021

Re: Ennui

I can just imagine it. Like some old black and white photo

Re: Ennui

That strikes a picture of the past, Tabby.

I have many photos of my grandparents family members with not a smile on any of them.

Re: Ennui

Excellent Tabby. I had to Google 'Ennui'

Re: Ennui

I didn't.

Other search engines are available.



Very good ST. Still life in words.

Re: Ennui

I had to google "ennui" and "homily".

Tabby is turning me into a proper poetry fan.