Leda
...a poem for my late mother-in-law
She looked just like his late Mum, sitting there, sun in her eyes, watching waves, cappuccino, cheesy chips, flip flips on the bar, living her best (after)life, and for a split second, I rehearsed telling her later, laughing with her afterwards. For the first time in a long time, I forgot.
The Tideline
As soon as the older lady sat down on the beach bar stool next to my husband and me, we had the same thought—it could have been his Mum. We were at her local beach, so perhaps she was just on our minds, but everything about this woman reminded us both of her. And she seemed like she was having the best day.
I am a poet and narrative non-fiction author seeking wild wisdom for contemporary crises—both the personal (midlife, AuDHD, chronic pain, anxiety, et al) and the global (environmental/social cluster-snafu). If you enjoyed this poem, subscribe for more…
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