London Pride and Dandelion

Hoorah .. it's Friday ... phew ...

Apparently today is National Memory Day. When I got home I took this late shot in the garden. The London Pride reminds me of mum and her cockney origins and also of when we went to see The Boss in Hyde Park and his wonderful decision to start the concert with his version of London Calling (we're in there at the back somewhere!)

Sunlight - Seamus Heaney

There was a sunlit absence.
The helmeted pump in the yard
heated its iron,
water honeyed

in the slung bucket
and the sun stood
like a griddle cooling
against the wall

of each long afternoon.
So, her hands scuffled
over the bakeboard,
the reddening stove

sent its plaque of heat
against her where she stood
in a floury apron
by the window.

Now she dusts the board
with a goose's wing,
now sits, broad-lapped,
with whitened nails

and measling shins:
here is a space
again, the scone rising
to the tick of two clocks.

And here is love
like a tinsmith's scoop
sunk past its gleam
in the meal-bin.