“Taffeta” by Ellen Saunders
On February 9th, 1964, the “British Invasion” swept America as the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show for the first time; that summer, the Rolling Stones pushed the Invasion all the way to Nebraska, performing at the Omaha Civic Auditorium (still a fixture in Omaha’s downtown today) during their first American tour. In Lincoln that February, the average temperature was 31.3°F with a low of 8°F and less than one total inch of precipitation. Ellen Saunders uses the Beatles as a cultural touchstone in her poem “Taffeta,” published by the Prairie Schooner in the summer of 2009. –Tory Clower
Ellen Saunders
Taffeta
As a girl, she perfected the fox-trot
in the hotels of St. Louis. A taffeta
skirt circled her ankles, its swishing sound
followed her as she moved across the high
ceilinged room with crystal chandeliers,
the sounds of Glen Miller. Raven hair fell
down her shoulders, her eyes like sapphires.
Too soon, she married, moved to suburbia,
had seven children, and ceased to dance.
She wore cotton skirts until she discovered
no-iron polyester. The Beatles blasted
from her radio. But she never forgot
the dance, the way she was wrapped
in taffeta the color of peaches.