Saturday 11th August


The father puts his arm around the son,
The son counts off numbers on his fingers,
The father walks away,
The son cleans up the debri,
The father is gone,
The son stops working for the first time in years,
Looks around,
Missing his father,
And the mother of his unborn child,
Waiting for him to bring home the bacon,
She lives miles away,
He wishes she was here,
He wishes he was there,
In two places,
The old & the new,
Always a longing for the other,
Relief at arriving & leaving


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