Mother is getting a new shadow
for her shed door. It fits in beneath
the keyhole where the latch-cover
falls. If, in the middle of the night,
someone rattles the door, the shadow
would curl round their curious fingers.
Some things she keeps tucked in, out
of doors but under cover. Darkness
finds its pattern amongst them, a naked
light bulb pushing it into corners. Mother
has spent more time in the shed since
Father left. She piles more empty boxes
on top of the mess he left. She promises
to let us help her sort through it, one day.
She locks the door but we hear her,
after she says goodnight, opening and shutting
opening and shutting the door.
Based in Devon, Hannah Linden has been published widely. She’s working towards her first collection, Wolf Daughter about the impact of parental suicide. Twitter: @hannahl1n