My mother was definitely not happy
my mother was set-faced
my mother was often laugh-less
my mother suffered from occasional
bouts of genuine merriment
my mother was a complicated person
needing to be understood
my mother told my father the truth
but only at Christmas
after several dry sherrys
once a year she told him
that he had never loved her
never really loved her
and there was nothing
he could ever do
to make it right again
and to stop his bloody mithering
Published by colinhopkirk
Poet, writer, artist. Writing and performing in England, publishing anywhere. Member of Hexameter performing poets. Workshops, projects, cross-arts collaborations.
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Colin Hopkirk Poetry 