Lanterns

 

 

in a carrier bag

Chinese lanterns long ignored

lie creased and faded

I am surprised by your moment of sentiment

you want to keep them

 

a child in your voice

remembers them hung crisp and bright

by a mother who tried to care

 

grown now you know

it wasn’t you who drained her smile

she carried your dead sister through sepia streets

and wore the memory like a stone

 

keep the lanterns safe

close the bag

don’t let them fade any more

and sometimes look with a small boy’s eyes

at who she tried to be