Persistence of Memory

Persistence of Memory

Seated adjacent to you
I take your papery hand in mine.
Your milk blue eyes turn to me,
seeing, but unseeing.
My speech shrill and inane.
How was your day?
Did you enjoy your dinner?

I try to find a way in.
To reach through and beyond.
Trying to part the curtains of mist
obscuring our shared memories.
I come from landed gentry you know?
This conceit the latest addition
to your repertoire of confusion

The kindest of carers is tasked
with painting your nails.
Pearlised, pink polish your choice.
Incongruous, huddled in your lap,
ten iridescent shells
atop papery claws,
restless as agitated birds.

‘See you soon Mum.’
My retreat barely acknowledged.
Tea and biscuits of more import
than anything I may utter.
I remain a daughter, you, my mother.
An invisible skein fetters us,
blood and birth our legacy.
Tina Pritchard March 2018