…the emotions and memories
of each of your last 29 years.
And though your voice broke
a long time ago, I still
hear you before.
Now I hear
the yellow of your hope
when you say “I’m sad but
I’ll be fine”, hear
the purple of your pride
when you say “you can now
call me rocket scientist”, hear
the red of your anger when you
speak of injustice, hear
the white of your innocence and
the brown of your simplicity.
Now I feel
your wavelengths echoing
through my heart while
you talk of friendship
and heartbreak.
And sacrifice
and success.
Now I feel
the blue of your calmness, the
orange of your warmth, the
grey of your intelligence.
Now I see you
sitting in the back
of the car while we
listen to the news….
and I feel
all that dark,
dark,
blackness,
when you quietly say
“You know, Hadiza† is
on that plane”.
Now I hear
the violent chattering
of your teeth when
you’re cold after a swim.
Then I hear
your pleased babble
when you get your favourite
cereal for breakfast. And
how you cried
when I accidentally hurt you
with the safety pin
while changing your nappy.
And what a thing of beauty
to hear you, and
be so subtly transported
back in time.
To be able to peg
each of your colours
to a memory.
To have been there
to witness you.
How absolutely wonderful.