I’ll find you both in the valley of lilies, wafting away the smell of mothballs from your clothes.
My country grandmother, sunning yourself on the rim of your best Sunday hat,
taking a well-earned rest from your garden of vegetables and honey.
My city grandmother, swinging yourself from the handle of your trolley-bag,
so ill in life – now racing.
I’ll see you both, my grandmothers, smiling through a haze of lilies.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, January 2019
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Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian
Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.
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