The Wedding Photograph

She wore Calipers
on her wedding day,
not that you would
ever have known;
beneath her dress
they lay hidden
attached to shoes
as heavy as stone.

Elegant she was,
looking like a princess,
slim hand on
my Father’s arm;
in a cloud of tulle
and white silk
she looked serenely happy
unusually calm.

They stood so close together
gazing into each other’s eyes,
the love I saw residing there
quite took me by surprise.

The happiness
they knew was intense;
their times together short.
Lives
were about to change;
the world at war
in conflict caught.

Snatched love
and babies,
became a way of life,
not just for my mother
but every service wife.
Then,
the telegram arrived,
inevitable in the end.
A widow
with young children,
a normal wartime trend.

Now I look at their photograph
an image locked in time
with the final realisation;
this is all I have
that's mine.