South poem

Here is the poem of mine that is in South, issue 50.


After she died we found it in the cupboard.
‘A gadget,’ we both said, hingeing the metal flaps
to see if we could discover what it was for.
It went into a box we took to the charity shop
along with the pastry wheel and sweetcorn forks.

They told me it was for baking potatoes.
‘Makes life easier’, she would have said, ‘my gadget,’
smiling with satisfaction, trying with all her motherness
to foist one on us as well, as though the best of life
were to only to be found in things that made it better.

In the empty flat I saw her sitting there,
eyes locked on to the television, remote control
easily to hand, tea infuser ready to endow the day
with labour-saving comfort. When we came to visit,
those familiar friends sat closer to her than family.





About thebelatedwriter

I'm a baby boomer who has always wanted and tried to write. It was only when I did an MA in Creative Writing in 2010-11 that I dared to take my writing more seriously. I write both poetry and prose and have had a number of poems published. This blog is for my writing friends, my non-writing friends, and anyone else who may be interested in these ruminations.
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