Loss is all around

I feel loss in your footsteps

walking on roads I used to skip on

roaming markets, like mazes, I would get lost in.

 

I feel loss in your voice

hearing the soft sounds of lullabies

lovingly whispered into the ears of babies.

 

I feel loss in your scent

the wafting aroma of pancakes on the hob

the burning of uunsi over hot coal

breathing in the pungent smell of coriander.

 

I would rub the leafs between my thumb and index finger

as you taught me

to tell the difference from parsley

before buying.

 

I feel loss in your memory

the anticlockwise swirling of canjeero on the griddle.

Passing parks

pushing me on swings.

 

I feel loss in your stories

trying to fill in the gaps of the ones you tell me

searching for you in the ones they tell me

of how you helped them

fill out forms and settle in

find work and housing

 

‘your mum really helped me’ they say

and pause in mid sentence.

the silence

sadly

says

 

‘and now she’s helpless’.

 

Hooyo, I feel loss in your scent and sound, your touch and taste.

 

I feel loss everywhere.

2 thoughts on “Loss is all around”

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