Cindy Hossain
Yesterday Dream
I couldn’t give you life
now all I have to offer is this poem
There are no photos of you to bring home
two lines on a stick, stuffed in a drawer
and they have now faded too
Like a dream from the past
I grasped at the idea
knowing full it wouldn’t last
My body will recover
But what hasn’t become left a scar, like no other
I bore not a child
but a soul cratered like the moon
You were unexpected, unplanned
But not unloved
Sleep in piece my angel - you left too soon
Indents
Jack leans forward and presses his lips against Stacey’s, while Flaurance tends to their
newborn in the adjacent room.
“Can you believe that!” Lucy exclaims, using the remote to pause the soap opera.
“I mean, poor Flaurance just gave birth to his offspring!”
Lucy looks at the empty space next to her on the sofa, seeking Clair’s opinion of Jack’s
distasteful dalliance. She stares at the indents on the cushion where Clair used to sit. Sighing
loudly and pinching her nose, she pushes play on the remote. It’s been three months since
Clair passed away, and sometimes she still forgets.
Sandcastles
“Now pat, pat, pat,” Natasha instructs her son, and watches as he taps the bucket with
the red plastic shovel gripped between his small fingers.
She lifts the bucket, and they both cheer at the almost perfect sandcastle. For a
moment, a memory pulls at the deep wound that her son’s presence has stitched together.
I wish you were still here - then you could have helped me teach your little brother to be king
of the sandcastles; we could have celebrated his creations together.
“Another one, Mummy!” her son says, handing her the empty bucket.
Cindy Hossain was raised in South Africa. She emigrated to the United Kingdom, where she now looks after her young family whilst doing a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing.