Tuesday, 22 July 2008

His Mother

I remember the day he painted the door,
took four hours and only two drips.
He left little notes under the bread bin
to remind me to do something or other,
not sure he wasn’t reminding himself.
Never got on with Uncle Twm, a clash
there, his Nan used to say.
When did he get that exercise bike?
I forget now but it was two years in the box
before it went to the car boot.
To think he doesn’t even like chips.

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