Grief

I find my Father in B&Q

In the depths of its vaulted shed

Is the Chapel of Fastenings

And here, as I kneel at the shrine to the bolt,

Praying for a forty millimetre metric eight,

He touches me.

In here, he’s everywhere, happy among things,

Walking by my side

He slows me for the perfect screwdriver,

And, as I weigh its balance in my hand

He nods slightly in approval.

If I am lost in the stacks and call out Dad! Dad!

He will answer

I’m here, son, with you, by you, always.