My Daughter’s Elephant

From a far bank she knows it approaches.
She is one of many without walls
or someone to plant daffodils in her hair.
For her, one more year is seismic shocks
moved on moon tides, a metastasis
dragging grey bulk away to die.
Last year we went to bed early, tried to pretend
church bells were yellow celandine
found on a Sunday walk. But now
as minute hand touches another damp midnight,
she offers red tulips to bury near her feet.
Words like a curved tusk aimed at my ribs.

Cracked Heart

© Talia Hardy 2015

Wishing you all a prosperous, healthy new year.


One thought on “My Daughter’s Elephant

What works well for you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s