Mornings

              MORNINGS

              Always I find
              the downstairs curtains
              partly drawn -
              tell-tale paw-marks
              on the glass;
              my son, rising five,
              early riser,
              finds his way
              down dark stairs;
              his family still sleeps;
              atop the settee,
              warmed by the radiator,
              he looks out at the street,
              searches the sky for planes
              Manchester-airport bound.
              I've been good, daddy,
              he says;
              it's nearly not dark, dad,
              it's nearly morning.

             ©  GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Heckmondwike, 2nd February 1982

Publications


1983 Poetic Licence (UK)
1988 Pennine Ink (UK)