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Monday 12 June 2017


Monsoon lightning
Rips the dark sky like tin.
We quietly sort: Pearl, Diamante,
Jet as black as sin.
In the dry season -
Shops a hundred miles away
Buttons make playthings
As heat flies from the day.

Through twelve shady houses,
Twelve verandas and plots
Under a hibiscus tree
Mother pleats and smocks - 
Remembers make do and mend:
Blankets kilts, tea-towel tops,
Dresses of parachute silk.

Memory works Open/Shut, like a fan -
We saved that box of buttons
A touchstone in dementia sand.
Twelve Houses furnished and gone.
Now, a nurse tests for buttons
You know the 'thing' is round.
'With b?' you say, 'not a belt!'
The sugared silence is profound.

© Wendy Vacani
All rights reserved

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