Marilyn Humbert

Glass Jars

Staying at Mum’s while she is in hospital, I am joined by my two sisters. We haven’t lived under the same roof for 50 years. Being the oldest I am supposed to take the lead and keep order. It’s like herding cats. There is a definite generation gap. They are closer in age, share the same school friends, have a shared history. The difference in our personalities has grown wider. We have different strategies for coping. I like solitude and calm, they talk loudly about inane stuff and giggle lots making up whimsical plans and grand ideas.

last of autumn’s
yellow peace
rose petals
fall in swirls
a withering carpet

bright red
rosehips plucked
between thorns
arranged in glass jars
left to shrivel

night wind
rustles green leaves
branches
thick with age
sigh beneath the moon