I am contributing a poem I wrote about my mum's daily pilgrimage to March's side of river Nene.
My Mum and Nene
Our small house is never too far from the river,
and she walks there come rain or sleet
to deliver bread and seeds to the geese couple
who've made March's little part of Nene
their home.
When she approaches the river bank
the mother goose calls out a cry, and papa goose
stands tall, looms over the eggs
to protect them from harm, whilst mama goose
waddles over to my mum to receive her communion.
My mum has been at it for some time
and when we return home for the holidays
she recounts the story to my brother and I
with pride in the geese couple
who protect their young.
I smile holding my mum's hand
telling her we're sorry for being away
for such a long while.
Hold and drag to see more detail in the image
NAVIGATION
