The Sign (for Jill in memory of her mother)
Are you there?
Silence plunges me deeper into
my sun starved chasm.
Please send me a sign that you are near;
the lure of your favourite perfume,
a whispered kiss on my cheek.
In dreams I'm swept into
a familiar room
you furnished with fun.
Photos grace magnolia walls.
Voices urge - don’t disturb her.
Reclined on the sofa. immersed
in poetry pages - you smile.
Sifting through a battered box
of once proudly displayed
snapshots of your grandson's,
my recollections tremble.
Wrapped in nostalgia’s shawl
I embrace my sons’ evolving phases--
snug in babygros
cuddled by Grandma -
school prints parade crisp uniforms
and shy smiles -
teenagers in torn jeans
wicked t-shirts and ruffled hair.
I jolt - my fingers fumbling
as cornflowers and daisies dance
in a gentle breeze, on the cover
of your cherished book
... of poems.