My Dad

 

My Dad’s photo

Stands over there

Comfortably sat

In his old armchair.

Me and my Dad

Didn’t talk very much

We didn’t hug 

And we didn’t touch.

 

We’d sit together 

Watching TV

A companionable silence

Between him and me

Or we’d walk the fields

Shotguns in hand

To take some food

From the land

 

Not for sport

My Dad and me

Just to fill the pot

With food that was free.

A quiet man

Tall thin and grey

Who laboured on the land

Every single day.

 

Seldom time off

When you work on a farm

So animals don’t starve

Or come to harm.

Never got to retirement,

He died too young

From too much baccy

And Farmer’s lung.

 

I was by his bed

The day he died

Then left the room

And quietly cried.

Regret is no good

But on one of those walks

I wish just once we’d had 

A companionable talks.

 

I loved my Dad

And he loved me:

In those days Folk

Didn’t show it you see.

When we scattered his ashes

I held mum’s hand

As we watched them blow 

All over the land,

 

The land he loved,

The land we walked,

So companionable that

We seldom talked

i’ll never forget

That cold January day

A sudden gust blew

My dads ashes away.