collection, Watermarks, 2009,
Press, ISBN 978-1-9048522-4-7
Three Months On
He comes in unannounced
my shoulder, watching as I return
cutlery to its drawer, reciting
my head the drilled-in list he learned
National Service: knife, fork, spoon –
no tin mug.
there the moment
It feels like breathing out,
he is gone until recalled,
by the corkless bottle-stopper
on the shelf. When I found you
morning, crying, it was little things,
said, that ‘got you’. They get us
and less these days – most recently
singing You Will Be My Music.
day soon I’ll frame a photograph.