Last Visit to Grass Street
For Lauris Edmond
The grandchildren meet me
at the door, the way you would
have liked. They say you are
wearing your favourite dress.
I cannot remember
if you have your shoes on.
What a tiny coffin
you are lying in,
the lid leaning casually
against your bedroom wall.
On the way home I stop
to shop in Chan’s.
Hanging over the open freezer
cabinet, I select a packet
of frozen banana leaves.
La Choi tuoi, Flying Goose
Brand, and I press the hard cold
square against my swollen cheeks.
Sing the leaf, sing Flying Goose Brand
banana leaf, always large
and pliable. Grass Street moves
into a mythological area
in my brain, and now I can never
cook grilled fish in a banana leaf
without that aromatic subtle
flavour making me think of you.
