One side of a conversation over breakfast

The flowers, no they were petals,
were suspended over my head.
I think they were singing a quiet
song to themselves. They were white,

each one in its own space. They were
stationary but fluttering. I was
so surprised. They were all white.
I knew I had caught the wrong bus

and that I should have been taking
a child to school. I didn’t recognise
the street through the white petals
but I was not that concerned.

I was just astonished and happy
to see the whiteness. Like when
we took the baby and all fell asleep
under the wild cherry blossom

in St James Park that spring. Like
that thought I had yesterday that
although you love purple I would
prefer white flowers on my coffin.

 

 

Anne Bailey has had her work published in various journals. She is a committee member for Cafe Writers. Her first pamphlet What the House Taught Us was published in 2021 by Emma Press. https://theemmapress.com/shop/poetry/pamphlets/what-the-house-taught-us/  Find her @Anneebai