(7 September 1935 - / Maldon / Australia)

Thinking Of My Mother On The Anniversary Of Her Death

I search her face across a hemisphere,
embark on one more journey:

Will you come?

She’s ready with the thermos,
wearing her brown gardening-shoes,
her glasses slipping forward on her nose.

Says she’s been planting dahlias
to make a summer show,

a new display for the place
she calls her Park.

Over the cloudbank it’s candescent,
close. I dare her to keep up with me.

She shuffles answers
to fit my questions. We float,

almost sisters
in the glide of it.

User Rating: 2,8 / 5 ( 31 votes )

Other poems of GALLAGHER (42)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.