Mountains of Moments



Mountains upon mountains of clothing,

moments of a life mounting up in my lounge.

We trundle up the mountains paths, my daughter and I,

leaving our footprints in the rubble,

seeking to pick apart the pieces, to pull away the threads

the threads that hold together the fabric of a childhood past.


Momentary strands of fabric depart,

to make new moments in new places,

on the carpet, cushions and curtains,

catching themselves on corners.


Digging our holes deeper, we collect up the

unwanted rubble, and carry it in sackfuls to our car,

and moments later, the rubble rolls along to the clothing bank.


My daughter cries – she cared for those moments, as did I.


But nothing is momentary, and nothing, this mum knows –

– has really parted with our company.


Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2019


Image by Sasin Tipchai from Pixabay



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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