Of our youngest son’s home

For nearly ten years.

Permanent,

Just like our trailer house

On the edge of happiness;

And it’s still there honey.

 

My hearing is going,

And the TV is so loud,

Sometimes, I don’t hear

Our granddaughters come home.

It’s been nearly twenty years darling,

I lost you.

You little shits get out of the ice cream

Lost my place,

Don’t worry I’ll find it again.

Those girls make me smile dear.

So much of you-through your son-

in them, bless their mother’s heart.

Your son got your luck.

 

I thought I saw you,

Yesterday, at noon.

The birds just flocked right to you;

You lucky bastard you.

They should have birds where you are,

 

I’ve forgotten some of our days dear.

I hope you don’t mind.

These knees have been buggers,

I’ve had to cut corners,

And I just about died

The last time I tried to drive.

I haven’t come to see you,

But you still manage to find me.

You just follow the birds,

Your granddaughters,

Your days,

The old trailer,

Spilt like bird seed across the ground

When my hand loses strength to

Pour it into the feeder.

You follow the trail of eighty-four years,

Forty plus years of marriage,

Nine children,

Too many grandchildren

And great grandchildren you never knew.

You find me.

Alone, in the spare bedroom,

Looking out at you

Playing with our birds.