“Tonight I can smell the season the way it’s usually only possible to at the very first moments of its return, before you’re used to it, when you’ve forgotten its smell, then there it is back in the air and the flow of things shifting and resettling again.” 

― Ali Smith, The Whole Story and Other Stories

A simple yellow postcard addressed to you, dear mother
was all it took to take me back to my deepest heartbreak
and as I looked at that innocent reminder,
my tears began to spill, and my stoic will did flounder
Mother, wrenching grief is never far away,
for I see you in each sun drenched summer day.

Your bluest eyes dance with the buoyant clouds,
the lilt of your voice carries on the nascent breeze
the fragrant pastel pink roses are a sweet reprieve
for within them, your gentle smiling face I see
and as hot tears fall upon these wrinkled hands,
I see you there too mom, for these aging hands
are your beautiful hands as I remember them.

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Timetravel- Flashbacks with Bjorn

27 Comments on “Remembrance

  1. Pingback: Remembrance — Charmed Chaos.. re blog, A Mother recalled… | paddypicasso

  2. Like you, I saw myself in my Mother’s hands … my granddaughter’s and daughter’s as well. Beautifully done.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Her hands in your hands. There was a comedian many years back who said something like, my hands came out of my sleeves and freaked because they were my mother’s hands. and everybody roared with laughter. Today I find those words to be so sad. Like your poem. You see your mother in roses and I see mine in pansies. I look down and see her hands in mine. So heartbreaking Linda.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I see you there too mom, for these aging hands
    are your beautiful hands as I remember them.

    These lines are especially true for me..I see my mother’s hands in my own too, sometimes, and sometimes in the lines on my face.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Such a BEAUTIFUL and moving poem, Linda. I can see her smiling, as she reads the words. (For I believe their spirits are still aware of us sometimes.)

    Liked by 2 people

  6. This was so touching–seeing her everywhere, but most especially in your hands. That feels like a powerful legacy.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Absolutely beautiful Linda. When I was small I always thought great my father was being sporty minded like him. Later that view altered as I could see she was the strong one, who coped and managed through difficulties and held everything together outliving him by many years.

    Liked by 2 people

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