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| 6.Punx. G Hughes 1986 |
through the exhaust fog of morning
my eyes water.
© Rachel Green 2018
He took one of the dogs
the bed, the books
the plates and cutlery;
the pots and pans and the contents of the pantry
(and the fridge and freeze);
the wine from the cellar,
the toothpaste from the bathroom;
the carpet from the living room
(just laid last week)
and the oak table my father left me
(including the odd chair that didn't match
because my sister took 'the wrong one')
but he left a hard lump of cheese
and a noggin of dry bed
and the other dog and I,
we feasted like kings
before the open fire of my love
and his burning paintings.
© Rachel Green 2018
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