I thought of you today,

As I picked at a slice of cheese,

The processed, shiny kind.

It reminded me of purple puffy jackets, pushchair adventures

and waiting for the bus.

It reminded me of your patience, your attention to detail

as you unwrapped and rolled a slice for me.

As I thought I was sombre

from the thought of regret,

If you regret extra time on the naughty step, school absence when you knew

I was faking it.

If you regret who I’ve become or who I’ve met.

It is just cheese,

The processed, shiny kind.

Yet with great powers of recall,

I recall you, who

Taught me to love,

And see love as strength not weakness,

As monogamy, not a hobby.


I recall homemade playdough, marzipan and mosaics.

You taught me to be curious

from a wary, calculating distance,

To save trips to the A&E.

You taught me to retrieve my broken glass and consult you,

On how to arrange or re-arrange it.

I was given moments to reflect, instead of hurt,

Shown anger through wisdom not blind tears or balled up fists.

I thought of you today,

And the mother you are,

The shiny, but not processed, kind.