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Abuela

Jane  Kite

 

Today I have nothing to say.
Your mother’s breath was loaded
with dust from the mountains.
You were oil dunked on account
of the dryness. You slept all afternoon.
Your father called you pimpernel.


Today I have nothing to say.
Your mother’s eyes were blue, not black,
your father traded olives for a gun,
stole swallows out of their nests.


Today I have nothing to say.
I would feed you almonds and oranges.
Your sweet name gluts my throat.
You were gone for weeks.
I came outside and scoured the sky,
found you asleep in the sun.

 

Acknowledgements:

Jane Kite is from Otley Yorkshire. She is a member of Otley Poets and chairs the committee of Otley Word Feast. She’s had poems published in Poetry News, The North, a Frogmore Press anthology called The Languages of Colour, and elsewhere. She rarely ventures out as far as Leeds but this year made an exception and visited the Almassera Vella in May 2013 for a week's writing retreat. 'Abuela' was written that week and went on to become runner up in the Poetry Societies Stanza competition.

 

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