SNAPSHOTS


HALCYON  DAYS: for my late mother
 
The Star of David crowns
the old pine tree,
a woman waits;
grass sprouts from her,
she’s taking root.
 
A piano swims through
an ocean of glass, takes
residence again, watchful.
Small fingers bridge ebony
to ivory
 
Someone on hands and knees
polishes the floor to honey,
small bed-socks glide
toward morning
 
Snap-shot-
together, apron-chic, polka-dot 
wooden spoon stirring.
Chocolate- smudged,
tip-toe-table-top tall,
remember?

 
 
Bonney Bombach
2017


THE REHEARSAL: For Claire
 
In yesterday’s mossy garden
on small girl knees, entwined
in childhood’s kiss, we conjure
fairy cakes of earth and petals,
our mother’s kitchens close,
our bedroom walls transparent to
our wills and wedded beds,
our nightly whisperings
an unheard rehearsal
for the day.
 
Bonney Bombach
2017


VICARIOUS

 
Blond, groomed
like her prized Samoyeds,
straight-backed
 
For her daughter,
a confection spun of
satin and tulle, she has
plummy-mouthed ambitions
to rival the show dogs.
Wants her to be a winner too.
 
Father, beaky as a bird,
cross-eyed behind Coke-bottle lenses,
his presence an absence,
status unknown.
 
My ten year old self surveys
this mismatched coupling –
ballet mum,
brittle as eggshell, bright as steel
has leashed them all!

 
 
Bonney Bombach
2017