Dear Ma

Dear Ma

You once wrote of me that I am like a chair not a comfortable one but strong and supportive.

Today I write to you to say that you are the table at which we dine at every night.

Your thick oak limbs have held more difficult decisions than traditional cuisine

and your back has prepared us for wars we were never going to win, yet here we are.

The kitchen table is radiant, grilled sardines waft through the air, every chair is taken.

By Romina Writes

She/Her Made In Portugal Based in Manchester, UK Bilingual BA Creative Writing @ UoB Poet/Fiction Writer/Freelance Editor Sub-editor for The Bolton Review issues 7 & 8. 'Half Moon' selected for The New Writing Showcase 2019. ‘Trouble’ and ‘If I Knew Then What I Know Now’ selected for The New Writing Showcase 2020.

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