My mother, Lesley, passed away in 1973 when I was just twelve.  This is one of my strongest memories of her. The first version was written around the end of 2012/early 2013.

Cold day
 
On mountain walk
in snow
the sharpest
feel of air
family scatters wide
but you stay near
our belly chord
connecting us
connected in my mind
 
Making snowballs
hands begin to chill
and turn to pain
I turn to you for help
and in the kindest kind of way
you lift your jumper up
so frozen hands
on belly warm
can tingle back to life
 
I know it must
be hurting you
to feel my frosty hands
but I also know
the mother love
that always lets
her child hurt back
in slightly
stinging ways

© Alison Hackett