COLOUR-BLIND

Colour-blind

I sauntered through decades 
in twenty minutes;
along grey decking
beneath a pale blue sky, 
full sun grilling my bald spot 
demanding a cap,
as I listened to my son
laughing through the mystical portal
wedged in my clammy hand.

Playing with stubble; thoughts 
tumbling like twitter feed
everything seemed immediate, 
important, 
less so then lost.

For over twenty years, 
I’d craved such simple repartee;
a refuge from sorrow,
and so on capturing his self-effacing tone 
I bathed in the warmth 
of his sanguinity,
as we vacated the battlefield 
to tend to our wounds

Together the sun and my son 
illuminated the garden; 
reds, greens & purples
vied for attention,
as his throwaway annotations 
ricocheted around my head.

He said 'I love you Dad’
as he hung up
my face aching,
head scorched.

Two days later, 
another call from his number 
though this time his aunt spoke…
‘John has been found dead’
his voice still playing in my mind
as she faltered with hers.

Without notice, my eyes filled 
were boil-washed, 
and hung out to dry.