Things I Never Told You

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Fri, 08 Jan 2016
  • 1592 reads
8 comments
 
You had lovely hands; how I envied them.  So soft,
and they always smelt nice, and your nails, always
so well-shaped, you didn’t chew them like I did...
still do, in fact.
 
You couldn’t cook to save your life when we moved
away from Nan to that council flat in South London.
Put salt in rice pudding instead of sugar and when
you hugged, you hugged at arm’s length as if afraid
of catching something. 
 
Without me ever sussing it you knitted a new outfit 
for my favourite doll – more dropped stitches than not, 
but it was the thought that counted; all laid out...tiny hat, 
leggings, and frock, on our dresser in the kitchen, 
when I came down that Xmas morning.
 
You’d yell at me if I forgot to clean my room – drove the car 
into a ditch then lied about how much you drank...Told me 
our cat had got run over in the road outside, didn’t cuddle me 
when I cried; shook me until I stopped sobbing. You smoked 
Sobranie , and how I loved the smell of them...much like cigars.
 
You set up a date for me with someone you worked with
at the hospital laundry.  I was fifteen, and he was pushing thirty. 
You said you rather fancied having ‘coffee-coloured’ kids
as you so delicately put it.  Needless to say, I stood him up, 
so he made do with you, instead. 
 
You went ape because they said your cholesterol was too high,
didn’t understand what they meant, so you worried yourself 
half to death..Then, you forgot where you lived – chucked
 your clothes down the rubbish chute...swore blind a tiger
was in your bed and that Dad was trying to stab you,
when all he wanted to do was to trim your hair; 
 
sat and twisted a tiny lock of it round and round your finger 
when them medics said you’d have to be committed – when Dad
couldn’t cope anymore – buggered off.  You see...way back when, 
Alzheimer’s wasn’t invented, so they labelled you ‘mad’ – finished up 
in Tooting Bec asylum where you survived for just two weeks...must 
have been the longest two weeks in the whole of your life.  
 
I tried to convince myself death wasn’t the end, but it never worked.
You weren’t perfect, but you were my mum, and all I ever really had.  
Always ran to the phone when it rang in case it might have been you –
locked yourself out of your flat for the umpteenth time...  
 
I’ll never forget the day I had what would have been your grandkid,
you were there, I swear, at the foot of that hospital bed;  I saw you,
plain as anything, and I prayed to god with all my heart, he’d let you 
come visit again,  but I haven’t seen you ...not since then.
Certificate 15
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Silver Spun Sand Poems
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Comments

Submitted by VeraClark on

A very powerful narrative with all the trademarks of your originality and rhythm.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks for reading, Vera, and for sharing your thoughts.smiley

 

Submitted by Bee on

The long story told honestly. 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Appreciated, Bee.

Tina

 

Submitted by tibi popovici on

Such a natural flow, great and true words placed toghether with meaning.

Great work!

T.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, tibi.  Good to hear from you.

Tina

 

Submitted by airyfairy on

Wonderful narrative - clear-eyed and genuinely emotional.  I found this very moving.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, af.  Appreciatedsmiley