Some Things Just Stick In Your Head
The only time I was allowed to go barefoot
was when I took a bath. Had something to do
with catching worms. Mum wouldn’t allow it.
Doubt I’d have caught worms from trodding
on pavement, but Mum was raised on a farm,
and some stuff just sticks in your head forever.
My mother is forever stuck in my head,
a flower-like remembrance, a sharp tap
on the shoulder. She was like that chipmunk
that used to live in the monkey tree, it had
a wide black stripe that started from its head,
it chattered away its moodiness while
shouting down at me … alert alert alert …
as one of Mum’s black moods poured
over me even though the sky shone blue.
I remember her pushing the lawnmower
through a clump of four-leaf clover,
and I remember how the day melted away.
Some things just stick in your head.
for Poetic Bloomings “Hindsight” © Misky 2020