Plum: 1981 – a poem

Plum: 1981

 

is written, spindly

on a white sticker

wilting, slightly.

 

I imagine hands

liver-spotted

spooning, lightly.

 

The best jam

balances, judiciously

lumps and liquid.

 

He made breakfast

beautifully, before

breaking, brutally.

 

Packed up last

the proud pantry:

lost property.

 

I took jars

as a sale

sealed a story.

 

 

Now, on Sundays

over sunflower

and pumpkin seeds

I spread swathes

of purple sugar.

 

 

 

 

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