I always held mum’s hand walking
to the museum. She always had such
Shiny and strong.
Her skin was warm and soft
wrinkled by years she spent carving
building a future and a path,
A better way for me to follow .
We would walk over little
wooden bridges that crossed over
Past the glass house
Victorian and conserved,
in a display of sunny arrays that
brought out her eyes.
Walking to the museum
Holding mum’s hand.