On recent dark nights
I’ve found myself thinking
More and more
About my dad
Even though he’s been gone
Thirty years or more
Coming home from school
To see my daddy weeping
Uncontrollably
In his big yellow
Swivel armchair
Which sat in the corner
Of our old living room
Maybe it’s because
I’m now myself reaching
Day by day
The age he was
When he had to retire
Aged just fifty-four
Sent on his way with
A cheap radio alarm clock
He no longer needed
And a garden lounger
Which collapsed soon after
It was his health they said
Or something far darker
As time ticks away
I’ve asked myself darkly
How much more
Time I might have
Given he only had
Some seven years more
Martin A W Holmes, June 2017
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