
Memories of the
pot plant on the window sill.
Mum’s purple Orchids.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
Memories of the
pot plant on the window sill.
Mum’s purple Orchids.
Mum, you are over
three thousand kilometres from
a hug and some tea.
A friend Convinced you hypnosis is the way to cure smoking, so you take a trip to a practitioner.
Looking at a pocket watch with intricate carvings of flowers and stems, you feel calm relaxation set in.
A voice from far away says, “Don’t be a naughty smoker, Anna”.
“MUM?”
We buy violets
to place on the window sill,
to be just like Mum.
Sunlight moves in, to shine a ray of
heated light through the window.
Sitting at your table, thinking about
how you used to stand, talk, smile.
A bowl of fruit on the table matches
the fruit pattern on the sink tiles.
A nook where you stood and made
a cuppa while we talked about life.
Sitting in your kitchen thinking about
all these moments we didn’t cherish.
Sunlight starts moving away from the table,
as the sunset turns the sky pink, grey.
A passenger.
A splash of organised colour
far off
behind closed eerie fences.
A feeling.
A splash of purple flowers
sitting still,
lonely, isolated, and alone.
A memory.
A window sill so far away,
where a flower
sits on Mum’s window sill.
Many pictures of mothers and children,
as their love for each other glows.
You’re in the North, and I’m in the South,
yet there’s this unbreakable bond.
Still, I wish to see you sipping tea again.
The Ornament
Mum selected
Greets Visitors;
A Gigantic
Green frog.