After losing her mother, a daughter recalls her voice and finds the memory catching at her heart the way bedstraw does. It’s only a few years since I started identifying this humble and varied wild flower, which indeed has a leaf texture which would catch on clothing walking past.
I read somewhere that it’s called ‘bedstraw’ because some types were used to fill mattresses.
Mother’s voice clings to my heart like trails of bedstraw catch you in the lanes.
Source: Mary Webb, Precious Bane (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1981), p. 18
Photo credit: zimt2003 at pixabay