The Circle

“Draw her a circle to stand in, she won’t stay still otherwise,”

were Mum’s unvarying words when my sister was immortalised.

So I have a snapshot of her with a circle drawn round her feet.

An elf in a fairy ring in the centre of a field of wheat.

The photo is in black and white. No colour film back then.

But as I view the familiar sight I see it all again.

The golden heads. The azure heavens. The crimson sets and rises

of a never ending circular sun filling the skyline with surprises.

And the whirl my sister stands in appears to symbolise

our journeys stretching out ahead in the never ending circle of life.

The ripened wheat behind her seems an emblem to our growth.

And the bright round sun on the edge of the world

gives a promise to us both that wonders are before us.

We’re, unsuspecting, unsuspicious - me behind the camera

and standing there, my little sister, with a circle twining round her feet

and a halo on the horizon – back in those days of hopeful youth

and innocent contemplation.