‘Each with a place’ Penelope Parker c. 2016
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.