United Kingdom

Read advanced books in primary school and now I'm sad all the time

Message from Writer

Write Here, Write Now.


July 24, 2019


Margarita: blossom, or pearl.
She wore broken English on her right hand, and
Her native tongue, from deep in the mountains
It came, she wore on her left. The only girl
Of five, from a village famed for its lace, not 
For economic opportunity. A small stronghold 
Of cousins, aunts and uncles linked around her like 
The mesh of mail when she stepped 
Off the boat in 1961.
From factory silk, she fashioned imitations of royalty, 
Her hand imbued with the wordless lessons
Of her mother, and of her mother’s mother.
The tradition died on the Second of May, 2018.
Nothing changes,
Yet everything has changed.
We will have Christmas in December, without 
Charlotta, we will have Easter when the
Spring comes, and the remaining women 
Will make flounes. My grandfather will 
Burst into song at every gathering,
But she won’t laugh in exasperation.
Her daughters will pass on her lessons to
Her grandchildren.
We will grow into adults,
And we will wear broken Greek on our right hand,
And English on our left.
We all might marry and have children,
One of whom will be named. 
Spring will come and with it, 

Yia Sena, Yiayia. S'ayapo.


See History
  • July 24, 2019 - 10:42am (Now Viewing)

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  • babybluelamentations

    i love this. It has such a smooth, concise story, and the culture infused into it is amazing.

    about 1 year ago
  • r|A|i|N

    your writing style is so beautiful and expert—i love this poem.

    over 1 year ago
  • Amalia

    @Pi_Pen thanks so much! Glad you like it :)

    over 1 year ago
  • Pi_Pen

    This is a really wonderful piece. I just love it. What a wonderful way to tell a person's story! Truly incredible.

    over 1 year ago