Fabric

Burrowing under the duvet with a teddy tucked under one arm, your cold feet on my legs.

First cup of coffee.

Your surprised smile as “Rock Around the Clock” hits the car stereo half way round Tolworth Roundabout.

Feeling torn as I leave you at nursery,

Feeling relieved to know I can leave you there and you will be fine.

A quiet hour to dye my hair green and get organised. Blessed indeed.

A woman at the door selling organic compost, who remembered my mum, was surprised to see me, shocked to hear of her death three years ago. Still remembered ,Mum, still remembered.

A crazed half hour of trying to print out poems and get out of the door: lots of swearing.

Hellos and How are yous from friends after an intensive one to one playful weekend with my beloved 2 year old son ends.

Mistaken for being in my twenties by a fellow student – she could not believe I am 39.

Two drafts of poems I am happy to read aloud. The promised land.

Each day a shimmer and a change in the fabric. Weft and warp.