Death Duties

a good friend rang for a bed

he’s coming back home

to bury his mother, he’ll need

my shoulder, a patient ear

and a bottle of wine or two

to exorcize his guilt,

the truth is,

he lost her years ago to the

ruthless grip of memory fog

making her a young girl again,

from sheltered accommodation

father quietly watches events unfold

behind his ninety-four summers

seventy-five a doting husband,

with the calm satisfaction of

having seen out a promise,

to never let her down

and the irony of knowing

that all eyes now turn on him

Published by grahamrsherwood