Terrie

We made bookmarks at her table and I,
not old enough to ask the right questions,
revelled silently in light that started somewhere
in her middle and shone upwards and out.
Greedily, I gathered her stories in my hands
and learnt lessons she hadn't tried to teach me.
I loved what I loved
and lived days in her likeness,
and in years since,
when small things I thought I could change then
have become so big
that even the idea of their size steals my breath
I have carried those stories
and climbed upon her memory
and each time am reassured that reason exists
when seemingly there is none.