Friday, 20th September 2019


Home Entertainment


In the garden, she cups petal fingers

beneath the fluttering cherry tree.

Pink snow, Granny!


Under a baby-blue sky, bunches

parachute and drift. Nature’s confetti falls

adagio on tissue-soft hair.


Later she holds her wee sister’s hand,

swirls en pointe through my home.

The radio’s tempo taps our toes.


I recall my Mammy rolling back

the rug, setting our floor free for dancing.

I laugh and kick my slippers off.


By Finola Scott

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