Saturday, 23 November 2013

My Father’s Bedroom

A single bed and someone's
discarded wardrobe.
One suit hanging like
your life, your death.

The thick scent of your grease
And body odour I recall
familiar from my childhood.

The grime of your toil lingered
there on the pillow and the soiled
bedclothes of your dreams.

I went to the window and lifted
the blemished fragile curtain,
my breath fell with yours, stale

on the cold transparency.
I left with nothing, apart from
that thick scent I thought

was lost until today.

No comments:

Post a Comment