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mother (2) (1 Viewer)


Friends of WF
We, returned from shopping,
sit at the laminated table.
No one else home
mother mine in time
as we ping shelled peas into a saucepan.
Too soon I hear
the squeak of the side gate
and catch mother’s eyes
our hands paused
treasuring a moment
lost as the backdoor opens and slams shut.
School bags hit the floor –
fragments like flies in resin,
amber beads linking her and me
even as events forever separate us.


WF Veterans
You are always so adept at making me see the moments. Not only that, but the feeling of the air. Loved your poem.

Darren White

co-owner and admin
Staff member
That anticipation is so relatable. I know it. It's like until that dreaded moment, time stands still, and live is captured in a temporary bubble.


Friends of WF
TYhanks you for the responses to this and the first mother. Little pictures are popping into my head, mother and me, sisters and me, brothers and me, father and me etc. I plan to capture them and then see, a poetic family album?


Staff member
It is lovely. A family album would be neat. In my family, we all sometimes share these little moments and each one has their own fragments in resin, treasures and snapshots in time.