Grief

I find my Father in B&Q.

In the depths of its vaulted shed

Is a chapel of fastenings

And here, as I kneel at the wall dedicated to the bolt,

Praying it holds what I need,

He touches me.

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

He wanders with me 

We choose the same 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, in you, always.