beach day
muffled in scarves and hats
the sea too far out
© Rachel Green 2018
My mother's furs
always soft, comforting
worn once a week
to the little Catholic church
converted from a schoolroom.
We used to walk past St Lawrence's;
the magnificent Norman style
CofE with tower;
through the churchyard
full of tombs and iron fencing,
and the flat semicircles of cremains;
through the old iron lover's gate
which clanged ominously as we passed,
my tiny hand in hers
and the scent of winter on her breath.
© Rachel Green 2018
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