January things

A kitchen full of children 

and a baby handed to me,

warm round cheeks and a little fist

clutching my sleeve.

A new monstera leaf unfurled,

from a plant I propagated

another home ago.

A drink poured for me while I cook.

A cup of tea in bed, reading,

listening to the spit of hail on my windows.

A "Love you!" as a child I adore

crashes out of the front door to school.

A pair of my grandmother's earrings 

finding a new life on me.

A perfect wool coat presenting itself to me

on a charity shop £5 rail.

A second glass of wine ordered,

a kiss while we wait.

A low sun reflected on the mudflats, 

laid out, a fat gold lozenge.