Five year old

Sunday morning
steel blue skies
rushed to the baker
bought raisin scones

She ate them all
licking her lips
a smile
quiet and content

I drown
in her brown eyes
and discover
a five year old

My mother

The day before she died.

Author's Note

This is a poem written some years ago.

Reviews

[Violet Rose]

This was a powerful piece. Innocent and casual to a terrible crash in the heart. Amazing.

[Liam]

I like how it transforms from amazingly casual to atmospheric in like two lines. Well done!