Imperfect recall
I remember my motherin a green mini dress and
matching boots, that
matched her eyes,
jet black hair.
I was three or more and it was
just her and me, I think
hard to recall completely
She bought me a dress
and boots with buttons on.
We didn't take them home
in boxes, or may be we did
I recall stamping in puddles
the buttons becoming less shiny.
Afterwards I recall climbing on a stool
and drinking lemonade and someone
said Mama had gone to Switzerland,
or Swaziland or maybe ... Heaven
I was four and the stools felt
like climbing the Eiffel Tower
and the boots on the stand
were beginning to pinch my feet.
Poetry by Elle
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Editors' choice
Written on 2020-12-26 at 15:30
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