A poem for National Poetry Day based on a true story. After my mum died we found this self portrait of my dad when he was 42.
Father's Day
I saw you, as I walked past
the shop on that wet Sunday.
The slight hunch of the shoulders,
the balding head, the walk.
But it couldn't be you
because it's been fourteen
years since you left us.
Unable to fight any more.
I had to stop and smile
for on closer inspection
I realised it was just
another duplicitous reflection.
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| Self portrait J Fellows 1978 |
Father's Day
I saw you, as I walked past
the shop on that wet Sunday.
The slight hunch of the shoulders,
the balding head, the walk.
But it couldn't be you
because it's been fourteen
years since you left us.
Unable to fight any more.
I had to stop and smile
for on closer inspection
I realised it was just
another duplicitous reflection.
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