Reflections on a day with my mother

By Grace Fisher Dance

I pick through my day with you
Adding up every moment spent apart
In the bathroom, on my phone, or at the bar
Each second feels like something I have lost 

Then, I draw out every moment when 
I was impatient, or upset, or 
didn’t encourage you to buy an ugly beach bag
This, too, feels like a loss

Then, I think of every moment we spent laughing, 
Cackling like witches across a coffee shop table 
And every moment I was reminded 
That my mind is the daughter of your mind 
And nobody knows me so well. 

On the train home, all the seats are facing backward 
As though the train is going in the wrong direction
Which it is, because it is taking me further from you. 

Grace Fisher Dance is a writer and teacher living and working in Birmingham, UK.