Lower Gwladys, GT5, L126.

Less an obsession than reconnection:
To the days when his blue eyes mapped my heaven,
His world’s-end words crawed my comprehension.

I recall one night, when, on television
A goal of such beauty had me weeping;
His world-spent lips mouthing appreciation.

Less an obsession than reconnection
To days of his great-coat; a boy of seven
Breathing in deeply its education

Of whelp-scent mixing with maturation
And the ageless salt of North Sea weathers:
His land’s-end shadow my world’s horizon.

Less an obsession than my retrospection:
This ticket to memory and blue season;
His world-spent vision now my perception.

So, each Saturday, this small redemption:
A grail of past self, a host unleavened.
Less an obsession, more celebration
Of my father and our one true connection.

By Martin Malone