At a hospital bedside a father breathes his last and the son reflects on their troubled relationship.
The Silent Bellow
Swinging in arms, His Nibs on the
Spinning armchair and lime green
a make-do plaything. He falls to his
rough nylon is warm stubble to his
comforted by mum, the threatened
Launching a clay pigeon, this ousted
falling in the mist, whole, no more
Dull thud of hand recalls the
Shopping and blissful, the intimate
The prodigal knows, but fears to
He drives twenty years, the car park
Bewildered at haste, the circle now
A lonely tear is the biggest of
The smile. A last whoop for the
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