In this photograph my mother doesn’t know she will be my mother.
Her dress fans out like a sigh around her cinnamon legs
and her braids fly like a dream.
I can hear her laughter singing through the sepia
her eyes teasing above her shoulder
“Look at me,” they say.
“Look at me.”
(published in This Recurrence of Light, Ecca, 2022)
Featured at The Red Wheelbarrow on 4 August 2022 as one of the Ecca poets
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