Wednesday, 7 September 2011

The Other Room


The old man died today
and I thought
there's a poem in there somewhere
but I can't get it out.
Auden's clocks didn't stop
as they would for a child
and though Scott-Holland got it right,
if it was me,
if it was me,
I would make that other room real
and be carried away alone,
no-one dressed in awkward silence.
No excuse

for the sons who don't want to see
their mam in the car with that man
and the in-laws who'll never agree,
staring dry-eyed past the coffin,
considering all that they've lost
when there's no will.

Don't give me that!

Just a statue, a tree
and some words,
if you want,
when you want
if only...

The old man died today.
I told my little girl.
It's alright, she said,
I can still see Grandpa yet.
Am I the only one who can?

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