Tag Archives: mum

Wardrobes

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