How they strut about, people in love,
How tall they grow, pleased with themselves,
Their hair, glossy, their skin shining.
They don't remember who they have been.
I did not promise
to stay with you till death do us part, or
anything like that,
I always wanted to give birth
Do that incredible natural thing
That women do-I nearly broke down
When I got home
I went out into the garden
Liking it when the frost bit
No one makes soup like my Grandpa's,
with its diced carrots the perfect size
and its diced potatoes the perfect size
and its wee soft bits -
If ye went tae the tapmost hill, Fiere
Whaur we used tae clamb as girls,
Ye'd see the snow the day, Fiere,
Settling on the hills.
My seventy-seven-year-old father
put his reading glasses on
to help my mother do the buttons
on the back of her dress.
My mum is on a high bed next to sad chrysanthemums.
‘Don't bring flowers, they only wilt and die.'
I am scared my mum is going to die
on the bed next to the sad chrysanthemums.
I remember your Moses basket before you were born.
I'd stare at the fleecy white sheet for days, weeks,