To Dad: From Here to Eternity


The nurse asked me for his clothes:
a white shirt,
a black tie,
black trousers and socks;
no need for shoes;
he was stripped
as I waited outside.

The shirt which used to be a perfect fit
hung loose at the neck,
caved in at the chest;
the tie's knot was uneven
ridiculously large;
he would have said
something about that.

His Rotary watch was unfastened from his hand:
his birthday present from mum
twenty years earlier;
it was handed to me,
congealed, on a worn leather strap,
still keeping the beat,
leaving a white patch on his wrist.

Raymond Fenech

If you've any comments on his poem, Raymond Fenech would be pleased to hear from you.