The same steak knives in Zurich that my mother has in Sydney
Is it any surprise
We have the same knives
When our lives
Are so easily connected
By flight?
But complacency’s unwise
Because not all the ties
Are strong and it’s night
In your world, while in mine
The sun shines
And tho the lines
Of communication open lie
The sight of those knives
was a cutting remind
You’re not by my side
clairevetica 
This is beautiful
This is beautiful. That pain is so real, these objects that hold a symbol of our connection that is practically indescribable. And yet you’ve captured it right here. Lovely.
Thank-you
There’s so much here. It is so full. And boy, do I get it. When it’s morning, mum is at work. When she comes home from work, it’s nap time. After nap-time it’s their sacred dinner time. It just is hard.
x
The dislocation and sense of ‘other’ is really compounded by the separation from our larger family. The objects around us often emphasis that as they feel as disconnected from where they came from as we do.
It’s true Tammy – even the drawer we keep the knives in (pictured here) is part of a cabinet that used to be my mother’s – so it’s a relic from my Australian childhood that’s also been relocated to Zurich via London!