It's Still Life

A 1950s View from the Floor When I Was 4 …

My mother had a funny way
of blending into the avocado green
painted walls of the kitchen.

The only time she was truly noticeable
was when she stood in the corner,
which was yellow,

or when she was pricking dead stuff off
her Christmas cactus,
which by the way

was almost as old as my annoying sister.

But this trick of hers was only possible
when I was standing on my head
with my feet caught

and held fast as if by a stone cold wall.

And it always seemed that her eyes
would float away from the sight of me,
float across the cooker,

past the fridge and the kitchen sink,
and to the cactus with its pride of place
on the windowsill.

---

Written for PAD Day 27 (poem-a-day-challenge) “remix an old poem from the month with another old poem”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.