Margaret – A Year

It’s almost a year since I was told you’d passed. I sit replanting your primroses in my garden. The heat took its toll on them last summer.

My mind wanders back to our childhood, how you shared your orange with me some lunchtimes. I would watch you walk past the school oval on your way to your piano lessons to sit for half an hour with Miss Knight. I’d wanted to go as well. I see the ribbons in your dark plaits, always so pretty. One time we…