These are my angel's wings

They are green and brown

And they don't fly high

But they protect me from corruption


 
 


This is a scarred piece

Julie it is sad
to scatter our mother
her ashes in the garden
her memories sad and happy with us
I'll store the chinaman with Seth
the rocking chair should go to Wales
the framed picture of her beside her tiny car is for me

I loved my mother as well as I could
and she loved me