Thursday, 24 February 2011

The crystal door handle was cradled in my hand

The waves threw themselves against the beach

And an old face sat in a deck chair, eyelashes blue, and smiled at me.

I kissed the top of his shaven crown and smiled,

Remembering afternoons of ice-cream and laughter.

I was happy.

It was only when I woke I remembered he was dead.

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