Home: Unbroken
 
eyes fixed on the distant dot
I watch from my perch
as the Vauxhall crawls back
reverses the drive    rewinding
 
he untreads the path to the door
backsteps the mat    heel-leads
the stairs to the study
where the letter floats   unopened
 
liquid ink up-slurps   a fountain pen
drinks it in   licks its lips
as words un-write themselves
my father’s loopy scrawl   dissolved
 
he un-climbs the stairs   turns-tail
to the lounge    unfolds the paper
and undoes the daily crossword
re-embracing me in his world

Kate Young
 
If you have any thoughts about this poem, Kate Young   would like to hear them