Started writing poetry in my 60s. Now published in various magazines and anthologies. May work towards a collection. Never imagined I’d be spending retirement in such an enjoyable way!
Her mother didn’t care for books –
time-wasters, gatherers of dust.
So she saved her sixpences
joined the lending library at Boots,
bought classics from the TocH stall
smuggled them into her room,
away from her mother’s urge
to file them in strict size order
behind curtained cabinet doors
until she moved into a world
where books roamed free, balanced
on unsteady piles around the room,
sat untidily on chairs,
nudged photos off the grand piano.
Now she reaches out to them,
traces her hand across the covers
like faces of old friends
whose names she has forgotten,
grasps at words
as they drift across the page –
slipping through her fingers.
Poem published: Equinox: Ordinary Magic
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