Posts tagged Places
An Oyster for Christmas

It all started with a misplaced Oyster card which I thought was in my usual coat pocket. One morning, we woke up to freezing weather. I changed coats and used my contactless debit card. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas. 

We went on holiday with my family in France. London, the grey tube station, deep escalators and the nasal voices chanting “mind the gap” were far away. 

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A Francis & Mané

On ne compte plus les années

Les enfants sont grands

Les saisons se ressemblent, parfums d’été

Du bois à couper, des framboises à cueillir

Les arbres de Noël sont devenus géants

Les petits enfants n’en finissent pas de grandir

 

Bien sûr, Il y des petites rides au coin des yeux

Un dos un peu voûté, le genou se rebelle

Contre les années, il y a ceux et celles

Qui les ont quittés, photos, lettres à l’encre bleue

Ceux qui passent au loin, en hivers ou en été 

On ne compte plus les années

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Snow Storm

C’était un matin vif et glacé. Elisa, emmitouflée, les yeux à demi fermés, marchait en sautillant jusqu’à la gare, en respirant à petites bouffées pour empêcher le froid d’envahir ses poumons. Les rayons du jour qui s’annonçait diluaient lentement la nuit bleutée. 

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Bipolar

Joy and sadness were inseparable. One would follow the other at some incredible pace. She would beam, laugh, talk without stopping, marvel at small things and hug us tight... we loved her most in those moments, she was fun and playful, our mother and best friend. She would chase us in the garden and in the streets in her sleeping gown, hair wild, eyes bright and mischievous. We would scream and run in front her her. Never mind the neighbours looking at us through their window, the old lady in the house with the red door nodding her head with contempt...we were happy and free and she was the most wonderful mum on earth. 

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