Not Yet My Mother

Yesterday I found a photo
of you at seventeen,
holding a horse and smiling,
not yet my mother.

The tight riding hat hid your hair,
and your legs were still the long shins of a boy's.
You held the horse by the halter,
your hand a fist under its huge jaw.

The blown trees were still in the background
and the sky was grained by the old film stock,
but what caught me was your face,
which was mine.

And I thought, just for a second, that you were me.
But then I saw the woman's jacket,
nipped at the waist, the ballooned jodhpurs,
and of course the date, scratched in the corner.

All of which told me again,
that this was you at seventeen, holding a horse
and smiling, not yet my mother,
although I was clearly already your child.

from The Blue Book (Seren, 2000), copyright © Owen Sheers 2000, used by permission of the author

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1Feeling the Catch

2Old Horse, New Tricks

3Unfinished Business



6Not Yet My Mother

7My Grandfather's Garden

8World Maps

9Night Bus

10The Wedding

11May Ball

12Mametz Wood

13The Farrier


15Marking Time


17Border Country


19Late Spring


21On Going

22Y Gaer (The Hill Fort)

23The Hill Fort (Y Gaer)


25Liable to Floods

26Under the Superstition Mountains


28The Wake

29The Light Fell

Books by Owen Sheers