Dinner table chatter, chilli and nachos,
extra cheese. Clean washing. A lift home,
a laugh, my dance moves, cringe,
kitchen disco, karaoke, a wall full of books
to remind you to read. Comfort.
A barrel of pride. Football trophies,
Her pawprints. A painting. Apple juice,
your favourite. Ted Lasso, your pillow,
The ceramic house where the biscuits live briefly,
The secret tin where the good ones hide.
Water: sea swim, quay jump, river splash,
bubble bath. Sun and snow.
Wellied footprints. Halloween.
Captain Barnacle. The school run gorilla, a song
we made up, a bombshell, a tear.
This is no box, no square package,
this care package is squashy,
the shape of a hug.
Imperfectly round and unstill,
a beating heart, no sharp edges or ending,
a pregnant womb, warm and watery,
safe. Never filled, but whole. You can always
come home.
joannaibarnard 