I took your rose today.  A small part

of me wondering if I should – it still

feels like a theft.  I worry about

doing wrong by you.  The usual

mother’s day self-reproach.  I never

felt a gift was right for you, so

instead you’d come here for food –

you were tiny inside your big blue

anorak – you’d make yourself even

smaller if you could. Never wanted

to put anybody out.  But you were

never a nuisance, Mum. 

I’ve planted the rose in my garden.

I hope it survives – I don’t have your

skill.  I took some primroses too.

The flowers remind me of you – they’re

strong and self supporting but even so,

they need some care.

They don’t ask for help.

I miss you.