In My Father's House

In my father's house there are
     over four hundred yoghurt pots
     washed and saved for a rainy day;
     boxes of presents from long dead relatives
     saved new in original wrappers;
     newspapers filed by title and date
     saved for unread articles and offers;
     and layers of dust I cannot remove
     because the cleaner must stay in the box.

In my father's house there are
     no talking giraffes in the bedroom;
     no small people chattering in German
     nor yet boxes of string labelled
     'too short to use', though this may come.
     And there are no longer
     photographs of me - I cut
     the wrong corner from the cheese
     and must not be allowed to take over.

28 October 2000