Perhaps I should soften like April light on the hardy plants
that is my attempt at creating a metaphor out of my dad
and I can do better than that but poets are sometimes arseholes.
Perhaps I should learn from the condensation in a bouquet
and understand that cut down carnations in their prime have a beauty
that is a metaphor for me and I am trying so hard not to be an arsehole.
My dad wants to meet for coffee again and has thrown in he will pay.
It is tempting to take him up on the offer and meet him in Costa.
It is tempting like Amsterdam windows but I’ll probably regret it.
My dad is getting older the light never returns from his wrinkles
he glows from the inside making his liver spots resemble paper burning.
Perhaps I’ll meet my dad for coffee and I’ll sit by the papers just in case.
Antony Owen is a writer from Coventry, England, who was influenced by his working-class upbringing being raised next to the famous Browns Lane Jaguar Cars Plant in the industrial heartland of Coventry. He is the author of nine collections of poetry and has been awarded the Bread & Roses Working-Class Poetry Award and one of seven poets shortlisted for The Ted Hughes Award for new work in poetry for his collection The Nagasaki Elder (V.Press). His next book, The Battle, focuses on mental health in men and alpha culture.