Barely December
You were missing a strip of hair
above your right ear
it drew me to your earlobe
hanging low
losing
to time and gravity
we sat in the sitting room
you, wearing your winter jacket
you were cold
shrunken
dishevelled
on the couch
you were reading something
your lips moved in silence
then stopped
you closed the book
tightly
you tried to speak but
your voice was drowned
by a dam burst of memories
coming to rest just behind your eyes
you looked at me
unable to breathe
your face an apology
I wanted to reach for you
but with your eyes
you asked for time
we waited
you managed to say
“it was Christmas”
before your voice
turned to sand
and tears
heavy with salt
were brushed away
unwanted
on the back of your hand
you closed your eyes
you cleared your throat
yet still, you couldn’t speak
I asked you what had happened to the hair
above your ear
you smiled
glad to be rescued
“your mother,
she forgot to adjust the hair clippers”
we laugh
you point at the television
there is a man demonstrating
an extendable hose
he sprays it in an arc
over a perfectly manicured garden
the grass is lush
“why isn’t my grass like that?”
we have dinner
my daughter gleefully pulls Christmas crackers
that you have bought for her
even though
it is barely December
you don’t eat much
you still wear your winter jacket
you tell me that the cold
is inside you
the lines on your face
are many and deep
you are eighty-one-years old
you are tired
we finish our dinner before the others
and return to the sitting room
the snooker is on
the crack of the balls
the whispered commentary
it could be thirty years ago
when you were a man
that didn’t cry
and I was the boy
you adopted
and loved right away
I ask you
gently
what you had been thinking about earlier
you look puzzled
“it was Christmas…”
you try
I watch you try
“I can’t remember”
the crack of the balls
the whispered commentary
my daughter telling awful jokes badly
in the other room
I look over at you
smaller still and slumped
into your winter jacket
the collar raised high above your neck
the hairless strip above your right ear
the skin there, perfect
pale and soft
you are asleep
it is barely December