"Don't Forget the Mushy Peas!"

"Don't Forget the Mushy Peas!"

Closer to who he will become,
I watch him cycle off down the street;
his scarf blowing in the breeze...the one
he’d worn in the snow, all those years ago –
tied around his neck like string around a parcel.
Such – my gift to the world.

Closer to when it won’t be ‘cool’
to reminisce about those songs we used
to sing...like ‘Ten Green Bottles' and,
‘One Man Went to Mow’, and when
that question, ‘How could I ever live
without you?’ will be alien to his lips.

Further away from the time we queued
for half a day in the rain, for a five-minute ride
on a big-dipper, and when we’d got home,
I’d hugged him dry, and he said he loved me
to the moon and back.

Closer to when I’ll quip, ‘Drop me a line...
when you’ve a moment, or just a phone call
might be nice.’ Right now though, can’t think
beyond him breezing in with the fish and chips –
him saying, he’s starving, so could he share
half my portion as well, and me, nearly saying,
‘Please...don’t go, son.’