She tends her bandages and reminds
Her when it is break time
The coffee will have one shot and much milk
Gretel always asks her is this my coffee?
Every few minutes.
Umi is shredding tiny pieces
Sugiharagami flakes in a small tin, soft scales
Which she lifts onto a clear shining film
Piecing a picture of blossoms before Fuji
The fibres are so fine she holds her breath.
She says it is gampi
That is the tree, very rare
When she looks at me
Islands float in iridescent layers
Absolute and abstract
As though she never left.
Veronica Aldous 2016 All Rights Reserved