This shirt is an antique, said Bob.
Remembering when our daughter wore it to theater camp.
At fourteen or fifteen.
A shirt she was not attached to.
Becoming a hand-me-up to her mother.
Always in need of tees.
For exercising, biking, walking.
Over thirty-five years later, still in good shape.
Despite countless washings.
Its pink lettering bright.
Announcing the name of the camp: Stagedoor.
A place for our then teenage child to learn theater arts.
Perform in plays, musicals.
Sing, dance, recite.
Don makeup, costumes.
It surprises me she discarded the shirt.
Repository of so many memories.
While I tend to hold on
to cloth that’s useful, whole.
Souvenir from joyous times
when I, too, played a role.
Lynn Benjamin
April 22, 2024
