The day Uncle Derek died
there was a knock on the door, but no-one there,
and his long-dead dog, much loved, was seen, for a moment, in the kitchen.
The family gathered with solemn face and downcast eye,
half-shrugs, handshakes, hugs.
Someone put the kettle on, so we drank some tea.
The day Uncle Derek died
there were balloons next door, and birthday banners,
a bouncy castle and the sound of children playing.
A car arrived and through the house a whispered echo spread
the doctor’s here...the doctor’s here...
best put the kettle on and make some tea.
The day Uncle Derek died
we sat outside, and watched some flies,
and talked of who would have his pigeons and two of the cats.
No-one wanted to be the one to phone the undertaker,
to say that he was gone,
so we put the kettle on, and drank more tea.
The day Uncle Derek died
his sisters sat and spoke of
jokes and laughter, tricks he used to play.
I bought a lottery scratchcard, because that’s what Uncle Derek did
when he knew he was going to die.
I didn’t win. Nor did he.
Back home, I put the kettle on, and made a cup of tea.
following.
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