how it feels – when i’m a child still
& my mum’s gone & my dad. Let us
figure. as you hammer concrete
& the nail bends, we need
i’m torn & i can’t stand it
when you slip my hand
Grief remains with me
When you go, it’s for so long that if you come back
I don’t remember you.
The space you occupy will sigh, miss you
like furniture does;
stair-rail, my hand.