Soft light, blurred focus.
Soft and warm and easy.
Traffic lights, frustration and a hint of boredom.
Swivel on your chair, to see
Granny and Izzy; smiling faces.
Peeping round the door.
It was warm and I drew a picture of the worst witch.
Mum was naked and loud
Soft and kind and easy.
Holding the baby, all wet and wrinkly.
So new, wrapped up in a towel we’ll have forever.
She held tight to my finger
and grabbed a piece of my soul.