Presence (to Dad)

PRESENCE

Your ashes are long gone,

Blown by the seasonal winds,

Filtered into the earth, feeding flowers –

Clusters of purple crocuses and bright daffodils.

Yet still you linger here

Peaceful beneath the tree, among its roots,

So when I place my plant –

A begonia, bright red, your favourite colour –

I feel you with me, your gentle kindness,

Your reliability, and am comforted.

Written after a visit to Canley crematorium in April 2011