Wardrobes of tailored jackets
packed tight with empty pockets
still scented with her perfume
Silver spoons and Indian brassware
tablecloths, hand embroidered
saved for a time that never came
Teapot, milk jug and sugar bowl
enwrapped with gaudy Chinese dragons
given to her by a friend
All her rings, except for
Dad’s engagement ring
which we buried her with
a huge box of jumbled photos
full of memories, undiscovered history
and her, lithe and young
Those eyebrows I see in the mirror
the laugh that is also mine
her legacy pulses within me
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
