My Father and I
A winter’s night, my father and I at the table
It’s a simple meal. It’s his favourite meal
Yellow scrambled eggs, white toast buttered his way
A big mug of brown builder’s tea
Afterwards we will sit and watch BBC news on TV
One final cup of tea he will be ready for bed
Is everything fine. You happy?
He nods. He was never one for big words
***
Summer’s morning. Sparrows fling their bucket of songs
like confetti in the air
I lean outside my window, see the trees nodding
their heads full of leaf and flower
My father is jogging up and down the street
arms swinging like a young man
A big grin on his face
Slow down, I shout out
He nods. He was never one for big words
***
An afternoon in autumn. My sister rings me
What are you up to she asks
Just the usual I shrug
There is a pause long like a river
Dad’s been dead and gone for a year now
Not for me I say
I was never one for big words
Reshma Ruia
Reshma Ruia is an award winning writer and poet. Her first novel, ‘Something Black in the Lentil Soup’, was described in the Sunday Times as ‘a gem of straight-faced comedy.’ Her second novel manuscript, ‘A Mouthful of Silence’ was shortlisted for the SI Leeds Literary Award. Her writing has appeared in The Mechanics’ Institute Review, The Nottingham Review, Asia Literary Review, Confluence, Cabinet of Heed, Funny Pearls, Fictive Dream, The Good Journal, Sguardi Diversi and various anthologies such as Too Asian Not Asian Enough, No Good Deed, Love across a Broken Map and May We Borrow your Country among others. Her stories have also been commissioned by and broadcast on BBC Radio 4. Her debut collection of poetry, ‘A Dinner Party in the Home Counties,’ is out now.
www.reshmaruia.com Twitter: @reshmaruia