Strangers Poem by David Lewis Paget

‘We never had much in common, ' said
The man in the sailor hat,
‘He was the father, I was the son,
And that, ' he said, ‘was that!
We had some fun in my younger days
And he seemed to always care,
I grew, and we went our different ways
And I lost him then, out there.'

‘Why would you turn your back on him, '
I asked, and he shook his head,
‘Didn't you think one day you'd blink
And your father would be dead? '
‘I didn't believe it would cut me down, '
He said as he wiped a tear,
And leant his back on the headstone,
‘I didn't know that I'd meet him here.'

‘So what was that final argument
That made you get up and go?
I asked him once what had turned your head
And he said that he didn't know.'
‘Neither do I, but he must have said
A word, and my temper flared,
A single thing with an inner sting
That said he had never cared.'

‘He always cared, I can tell you that,
From the time you could kick a ball,
He only had eyes for you, his son,
But surely, you can recall.'
I left him sat on the grave while I
Went off to brood on my own,
Then found that he'd scratched ‘I love you Dad, '
Too late, on that old headstone.

18 February 2016