Tags
aging, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Birthday, Christmas, Daughter, death, garden, grief, loss, memories, Mother, Mum, poetry
I see an old lady,
and I think of you –
enjoying her garden,
as so should you
Tinsel and fairy lights,
I really miss you;
coloured stockings hang,
each a memory from you.
Then comes the summer,
and I mourn for you,
for all the lost days,
and the things we can’t do.
When I hear a joke,
I want to tell you,
to laugh like two schoolgirls,
‘til tears wet cheeks through.
Each birthday ticks by,
I wait for your card,
I know it won’t come,
but it still hits me hard.
When I see an old lady,
it seems so unfair,
‘cause you’ll never grow old,
no stick, no grey hair.
When I see an old lady,
with daughter at side,
I think to myself,
That should be I…
© I Think of You 25/08/2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
the stockings were hung by the…tv stand (Photo credit: LizMarie_AK)
