Linda was a friend of mine
If not in depth,
In mists of time.
She served the till midst thrifty finds
Where a second-hand Rose
Might lose her mind.
Fabric memories of people’s pasts,
Some might say, the world’s outcasts.
I would venture into town
To rifle through the rows of gowns
And Linda stood so wise and proud
The mistress of the lost and found
We would talk of errant sons,
Smashed and broken family bonds.
And we would share the mother's songs
For Linda knew of children’s wrongs.
As Years went by, we still shared time
As I rifled through the preloved lines
Now Linda’s gone, her echo strong
Old dresses bland amongst the throng.
A poster shows her face so young
And I am lost without her song.
Song For Linda From the Charity Shop,
may she rest in peace.
©2026 Sarnia de la Mare