rain spots on my window
didn’t dampen my awakening spirit,
and the reverberation of tyres on glistening tarmac
was a roaring cheer for the living.
I almost smiled
in my almost happy dawn.
you had brought your promises to my jarred door,
with open face filled out in the right places,
freshly laundered jeans
and a clean, fragrant
upright stance.
your smile was open,
but I have seen your tricks before,
and though I was unsure, I ignored the warning
and let you in with words of caution,
cancelling previous plans
for anger and pain shared, halved
and neatly tucked away
followed by weekend laughter
and raucous rabble-gabble games of scrabble
between friends cheating in jest
I can see you love me
and you want to be clean
just as I realise it wasn’t your intention
to shatter me again with your shrinking weakness
but you are not yet ready
to reach for me
I don’t know what to look for
when I stare at your unconscious face
your shrunken body slumped across the room
I want to recognise you as my son
take away this thin man
and his sachets
of filth
©Jane Paterson Basil
Making it write 