December is hard. Birthday, death, Christmas, funeral. A month by any other name would still smell of sorrow. I’m scared of going home, sleeping where you died. Blue walls, pineapple delight. Scared is not the right word… you were always a better poet than me, but I can’t show you what I write, anymore. … Continue reading
Organise notes for presentation I miss my Father Remember to pack laptop I miss my Father Check bus timetable I miss my Father Swing by the bank I miss my Father Meeting at 3pm I miss my Father Don’t forget to buy bread I miss my Father WASHING I miss my Father Think of something … Continue reading
I have my Father’s eyes Almost green-grey. I have my Father’s height. I have his love of reading books. I have his impatience. I have his nose. I have my Father’s fierce loyalty. I have his toes. I have my Father’s fine, wispy hair. I have my Father’s bad eyesight. For that, I have glasses. … Continue reading
