
For PP
Your parents’ residence
was recorded by
their wall hangings,
and their belongings,
which you removed,
as if cutting down
through their lives,
stood for so long;
almost counting
acquired rings
of years, but you know,
already, it is fifty.
In the garage,
the wall of tools,
each with a place,
a purpose, nail-hung,
kept oiled and ready
for fixing and mending
any breakages,
but Pa’s skills,
his grip and twists,
will no longer be made
in this place,
now emptied.