Tag Archives: writing

a question

How has this been going on every day of my life?
How has the world kept turning,
how have people kept going,
when all over the place every day every minute
there are people losing their mothers?

You knew it was going to hurt, because
everyone says loss hurts,
but it’s a different hurt to any other, with a new language to learn before you can even begin to put words to understanding it –
so completely foreign and new.

I walk through the world with fresh eyes,
even more astonished that life has kept teeming across this rock
all the days I have been alive.


I had just finished writing this when my mum’s bedroom door came open. I’d been in her room and must have not shut the door properly and the open window must have blown it. But I felt like it was my mum saying hi to me. Hi, Mum!

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