Skin and Bones

I am sitting in the bath now as I write this

Squeaky-clean and supersmooth

Surrounded by skin and bones

A rare cafe con leche

Too late in the day

Kept me up all night

flat on my back 

In the dark

Listening to cockerels crow

And that faraway donkey

My ears full of tears

I miss you mum

I miss you knowing the whereabouts 

of even my most hidden moles and scars

The last of the cremated remains of the late 

Jennifer Hope Woolfenden

are sat beside my bed 

in a little plastic urn 

inside a little white cardboard box

A Christmas gift from my brother

Once the kids are out,

I thought

I will eat some of your ashes

I thought

I’ll run a hot bath, 

I will eat some of their grandmothers ashes

And I will cry, yes

That's what I’ll do

A homeopathic dose of you

Will sort this grief out

At last they leave

I am in the bathroom

I take some of you in my mouth 

And its gritty of course

And then it all

Makes perfect sense

A body scrub for the bereaved

I am sitting in the bath now as i write this

Squeaky clean and supersmooth

Surrounded by my skin and your bones.

Yesterday,  Mum when

I was busy holding your hand and

Praying in time with your see saw breath 

you pinched me, so hard

It took my breath away mum you

Made me cry and like always I

was not sure whether you

were even aware

We sang to you Mum

One for the road

The 3 of us in 3 part harmony

A hysterical final

Swing Low Sweet Chariot

It felt like Christmas except

We weren’t looking for your glasses

your cigarettes or your teeth

Your death was like a birth Mum

A two day labour

But now instead of 2 people there are none

And now I’m finally motherless It's a fact Mum

not just a sometimes feeling

Since you died Mum

I’ve been mainly walking

up and down Kentish Town Road sighing

I never knew about real sighs

How they are involuntary but

Since you died

Without warning, I am sighed in Kentish Town, in CostCutters 

and in Gail’s bakery Mum

And in my purse Mum

euros mix with pound coins

it would be such a simple act to separate them - but I don’t

Fumbling and sobbing at the till every time Mum, My ears 

still ringing with your last breaths

And back at your house Mum

I flout all the rules,

The dishes don’t get done before bed and

I don’t put a mat under

My plate at the table

The television is off

The radio is off and

I’m lying on the living room floor Mum

Outside of any obligations

Looking at your chair leg as it gets dark

Listening to your phone ring and your voice

as the answerphone kicks in

I'm trying not to move as it hurts in every direction Mum

I am marinated in pain.