When Life Closes In
Take a look at where you’ve been.
Look to your roots. As with my mother.
She wore a ladybird pin on her collar.
Dress or blouse. If there wasn’t one,
she sewed a collar on it. And belt loops.
A belt reminds you to hold your belly in.
That’s what she said. She had opinions.
She had her ways. Wore sensible shoes.
My mother pricked and prodded roses,
hacked the wildness out of lilacs.
Out in the cold and damp air. Drizzle.
No such thing as an unwanted season.
Dad used to call her Egghead. Annoyed
her the way a thorn annoys ones skin.
I remember it as unkind. I remember
her cheeks flushed deep. Her heat.
I remember her saying that heaven
stares down on you, so be ever kind.
Can’t recall when her hair wasn’t grey.
Didn’t hear her last words. I wasn’t there.
We buried Mum wearing her ladybird pin.
Today is International Women’s Day, and this one is for my mother who always set her own path. She loved to melt into the landscape. #APoemADay #ChooseToChallenge #IWD2021 on Twitter © Misky 2021 Image is from WikiArt by Joan Miró The Port 1945