- Vol. 05
An Angled View
The sun shines on us, it's a captured landscape. It’s a magnetic bond, her epic lessons. How you stay alive. That is life. This is living. This long race is our odyssey, it hungers for black or white. I don’t remember the blink, the flinch, the harrow of this angled view. Do I remember when she washed my feet, or scrubbed my knees? No. I don’t.
But there’s serenity in the scent of tar coal soap and lavender pillows and sun-dried cotton sheets. Her dimpled chin makes me smile as much as my child’s laugh. My mother is the softest colour. The shape of life. My future. I don’t remember her stormy moments of rain; I leave that drear to others. Do I remember summer’s cloudless sky, or my mother’s hazel eyes? Yes. I do.