Alice And The Photographer. Poem by Terry Collett

The photographer
says to sit
and be at ease.

You sit on the chair
he has left for you.

Eye the studio
old photos on the walls
a tripod and camera
in front.

He standing there
bespectacled
dark haired.

You want
your photograph
with the headpiece on?
he says.

Yes it was my mother's
you reply.

He nods
and arranges
the headpiece
to set it straight
and even at the sides.

You have very
distinctive eyes
he says
standing back
gazing at you.

Your nose
is straight
and aligns
with the center
of your chin.

You say nothing
your nerves are bad
you want him
to get on with it
but sit waiting.

He takes the camera
and sets it before you.

He disappears
behind the camera.

You freeze
frightened to move
your hands stiff
in your lap.

Relax
he says
the camera
won't bite.

You feel hot
in the black dress
you sense
your underclothes
stick to your skin.

You try and relax
pretend he's not there
but behind him
over his shoulder staring
is your mother's ghost
or so seems
like a figure
haunting dreams.