i went to visit the house where my father died
it hid behind the past, bars of scrub and tree
but where one had died i saw my bedroom light
and i found the field with rabbits castle traps
the spinney and the gale built mines of dropped wood
the cow raid on the flowerbed where i learnt to ride my bike
today the school still stands
the beatles loved her yea, my brothers second words
the rail across the rape crop had guards who shot young eyes
i was hurt my main road was not a motorway.
now the railways dead, only rabbits make the run
and my glimpse was short like spirit, a shock and gone
i saw my mum return through the crack behind the door.
she loved him. she was crying. he was dead.

image: poem


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