In Memoriam


A Little Wave

I didn’t know that it would be the last

time that I’d see you. In that living room


where South Pacific droned to fifteen down-

cast silver heads. You receded as we


approached you, all six foot and eighty-six

years of you shrinking, the heavy blinks of


a napping cat. I saw blood on your mouth

that was only jam – a practical joke


gleaming on your lip, undetected for

the hours since breakfast. South Pacific


still blared on as we left. You acknowledged

us for the first time to wave a small goodbye.


Ours the only three names in the guestbook.

Ours the only tyres on the gravel outside.


One thought on “In Memoriam

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s