Grave Considerations
by Tina Cole
Today I bought white
lilies
for women who were never
given flowers,
their images collage in
a flurry
like autumn leaf litter
surprised by a sudden gust.
My maiden aunts,
the last disciples of
crimplene,
who passed tepid Ovaltine
days
under the whine of the
Home Service
and woke to absence in
single beds
in a
house filled with lavender polished quiet.
I wondered if they ever
smoked unfiltered,
red lipped and bottle
blonded did they dodgem bump
the tongues of
neighbours, thread grey lives
with skeins of gossip,
risk all on G.I. promises?
But
what pleases me most
is the
fickle nature of memory
this
self-indulgence
and
voluntary turning of the tap,
how we
can customise the past
and
remember the brightest colours.
* * * * *
Tina Cole is a retired education consultant who lives in rural
Herefordshire. She delights in poetry that speaks about relationships and how
people manage their inner worlds. Her collection – I Almost Knew You –
published in 2015 deliberately brings those relationships into view. Other
poems have been published in U.K. magazines and journals such as, (Mslexia,
Aesthetica & Decanto), one in The Guardian newspaper and in several
recent anthologies. In 2018 she won third place in the Army – Writing Armistice
National Competition and second place in the Canterbury Poet of the Year. She
is the organiser of the Children’s Poetry Competition; poetryintenbury.org.
The funereal gloom of this--"woke to absence in single beds
ReplyDeletein a house filled with lavender polished quiet"--saved from doom by the "fickle nature of memory." Suddenly I long for colors.