‘Why white chrysanthemums?’ the girl asks
and I remember asking my mother
the same question
as a child.
‘Because they are the symbol
of Mother’s Day’, I answer
as she answered me.
I feel her presence
as I spread them on the table,
mentally ask her advice
on length of stem
and size of vessel,
see her smile
as I arrange them ~
some for her and my grandmothers
one each for myself my daughter
and daughter-in-law.
Together they fill the cream jug
for we are all mothers.
One perfect flower
saved to stand alone
in the privacy of my room
in my favourite sculptured vase ~
a contrast of red glass
and blossoming white
in loving memory
of my mother.
c. Kathryn Coughran (1993)
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