poem

by Jo Hutton

I love the smell of just-cut grass,

Something about it

Takes me back to a peaceful

Time in my mind.

I used to lie in the long grass

In the field behind our house.

Look up at the sky

And watch the patterns I could make

By filtering rays of sunlight

Through near-closed eyelashes.

Those were the days.

Listening to the distant buzz of

My eccentric father

Whizzing up and down the lawn

In not-so-straight lines

On his new toy,

The Lawnmower

His pride and joy.

We used to laugh at his then,

Sitting astride the engine

Taking it all so seriously.

"Go and call Dad for tea," my mum would say.

"Whaaat?" he'd yell.

"Time for tea, Dad" I'd yell back.

"Whaat?"

"Oh forget it, Dad."

I'd tell Mum he was on his way,

And he'd finish up in his own good time.

And didn't we laugh at him again

That Day

Amidst our tears

Trying to come to terms with

The unimaginable

The deepest cut,

The sharpest pain,

The sudden death

Of the one you have loved the most

For the longest time.

Oh yes we laughed

About the lawnmower

And we cried

And laughed

And cried

And laughed

And cried some more

Until we were all dried up

And all that's left now

Is love

And dreams

And memories.