‘Recordings’ a poem by Claire Basarich
I miss colours most, so pictures help
and sound recordings, until the batteries run out:
I’d want them to know that there used to be more
than one plus one plus one.
Cards to entertain and teach
counting, song lyrics to remember words
life is simpler now, the small pleasures measured out
savoured the same as those hard candies Grandma carried.
Ever since the cloud came down
like the quilt she used to throw over us,
sometimes it feels like camping, just keeping our feet dry