deepundergroundpoetry.com

Unlost In The Blue Shag Carpet

She smelt of lavender and moth balls
Just like she always did
Dressed up in her favourite frock
That was decades out of fashion
Lips smeared with bright red
And a blue rinse through her hair

I never really understood
Why she'd get so dressed up
For a quick trip to the shops
Where she'd buy a mountain of microwave dinners
And menthol cigarettes
That I'd nick when she wasnít looking

And her house, my home for a time
Smelt comfortingly of age
With a hint of smokiness
Tea and packaged biscuits
Trapped in the blue shag carpet
Where I'd lie among the ash and dust motes
Reliving happier memories of Mary Poppins
And an old wooden rocking horse

And it was so sad
To watch her lose her mind
As her sight faded
Having to catch her
After she'd stumbled into a door jam
Wobbly with senility
Calling me by my mother's name

And it's strange, how I never really knew her
Until she was gone
Tears running down my face
As I touched the cool dead skin of her forehead
As she lay sleeping in her casket
My world aflood with stories
Steeped in the scent of lavender and moth balls
That I still canít get enough of

And sometimes
I swear I can feel her watching over me
With a smile on her face
Telling me itís all going to be alright

Indie Adams 2012
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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