Where is my mum's heart?
She left it on her allotment and the weeds
grew up and people complained,
too much fruit dropped off the tree and projects
were started and forgotten.
Sitting in the Spring sunshine Mum talks about
Christmas coming soon. About the cold coming in
and that it's too late to plant things now.
She left it with our next-door neighbour, my
surrogate Auntie who taught me to knit, our
family friend, helper, cleaner - she left it with her,
visiting everyday for years after her stroke. Gradually
she became an annoyance to Mum, always
talking about the same thing, always
moaning and complaining. My perceptive mother
drowning in her mirror.
She left it with my two year-old daughter,
keeping the changing mat, the toddler books,
the wet wipes, the small baby bibs.
My growing daughter and I rolled around on the changing mat together,
She is moving out of the place called
'home' after 35 years.
Where is her heart? Her home?
She called me 'a charm' the other day.
She has her heart.
Let me always find it.