Palindrome
I have just made an egg sandwich with soft white bread,
sliced the egg with the orange plastic egg slicer
I found in Mum’s drawer. And I’m back there,
the seventh of the seventh seventy seven.
That’s a palindrome, the doctor said
when he called that morning to check on Mum
post cancer treatment. Later when the nausea settled
I had made her a sandwich much like this one,
the egg slightly warm. Noticed that her Christmas cacti
was blooming out of season.
Susan also has her own website where she showcases her own poetry and that of others.
www.poetryspace.co.uk
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2 comments:
cactus was. cacti were. good though =]
Beautiful and evocative I could almost smell the egg
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