Poem ~ Never


For Mam, 1st December 1932 ~ 25th March 2021

Grief keeps changing its shape – a weight 
like a kilo bag of sugar compressing my lungs, 

sometimes a water smoothed stone that fits
perfectly in the palm of my hand. Yesterday 

the heaviest of winter coats that refused 
to keep out the chill. Today, I woke and heard 

birdsong through the early morning mist 
and remembered the last words you wrote 

the month before you died –  It’s good 
to be positive and looking ahead, Lynne.

So here I am running the lanes looking for 
all the things I would have shared with you:  

the planting of young laurels along the hedgerow 
on St Vincent’s Lane, the way the moss 

has grown sparsely on one side of the stone bridge 
but thickly on the other, and how someone 

has laid a plank across the stream to cross 
from bank to bank. I think I understand now 

that grief remains with us. And I never had to say, 
Don’t go, please stay, because you never left me. 

Mam, the white wood anemones are like 
a carpet of stars. Soon, the bluebells. 


zocoodizzyache said…
Beautiful xxx
So touching and so deeply felt.