The Green Couch
I sat on my late grandmother’s old couch,
tattered and worn with French design-
a lingering whiff of her heritage,
vintage yet not quite chic
I always thought of her raspberry kisses
a love signature,
soft and tender,
unique to her.
No matter how many years pass,
how they softly popped against my cheeks,
forever imprinted on my skin.
Breastfeeding my new babe,
my big girl brought me seashells
and wildflowers, a sunshine yellow.
‘Because you’re so special to me, Mum.’
My heart melted,
then burst with the beauty of this child
and the endless love she spilled,
stardust-soft.
Her golden curls framed eyes
a midnight blue-
eyes that never faded
as she grew.
A few years later,
the couch was replaced
with something new,
soft and stylish for movie nights.
My memory knows-
no moment upon it
ever captured
the sun and stars within my heart
like those sweet seconds
on the tattered green couch.
In hindsight,
I think I cradled the meaning of life
in that very moment,
that day.
By Zoe Calder.
Zoe Calder Spells 