It's Still Life

The Mirror and the Palette

I love lilies.
Mum hated them.

But that’s not why I love them, although there was that contrary friction between us from time to time.

I love them because
they smell like church.

Mum hated them because
they smell like church.

When Mum’s father passed away, Grandma filled the church with white lilies. The air smelled weightless, and just on the edge of fragrant. Mum cried through the whole funeral. No, actually, she howled

just like that abandoned dog
that sat at Co-Op for days,

I also howled like that when my father died. Maybe it’s something daughters are hardwired to do. Or not, my sister didn’t. She howled when Mum died.

My sister hates lilies, too.
But I love them.

But that’s not why I love them, although there is that contrary friction between us from time to time.

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Written for GoDogGo Café. A Book called “The Mirror and the Palette” – Constraint: The title of a book is included in the title or the body of your poem. ©Misky 2022. Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday #GoDOGGoCafe  #GreatReadsPromptChallenge on Twitter.