Their clothes – still packed in drawers:
primrose on damson, lavender on peach;
and the tiny box for the loss of milk teeth.
Their stories – incomplete,
leaving empty pages in albums
arranged in tiers on bookshelves
on silent afternoons.
Their games and toys – all stored away.
Just one coat on a hook in the hall.
The carpet missing the mud and muddle
of after-school debris.
Mid-morning simply brings;
plain cornflakes and toast,
black coffee and pills,
and no need to hurry.
First published in Willawaw Journal, Spring 2019
“In my early 20s, I used to fantasise that my heavy shopping bag carried on my hip was a child I was carrying – my arms embracing it and settling it so we would both be comfortable; and my potted plants and avocado pits sitting in water – were all my ‘babies’ – foibles that made me smile at myself. Later in life, it made me think of women who go further in their heart-dreams, actually collecting items, tiny clothing; toys; activities that would be used ‘one day’ – only that day never comes. Instead of breakfast chatter starting the day – it begins with the routine of numbing the loss.”
Award-winning poet, Janina Aza Karpinska, achieved an M.A. Creative Writing & Personal Development (with Merit) at Sussex University. Writing in many styles is a daily practice, with work published in: Three Drops From A Cauldron; Ekphrastic Review; Isacoustic, Willawaw Journal, Drawn to the Light, and Poems in the Waiting Room among others.