Sunday, 22 March 2009
My Father's Glasses
A piece I produced as a response to a poem with a few other possible layouts (included below).
My Fathers Glasses
These Glasses were my father's,
he left me them to keep,
he was an optician's clerk,
he got them on the cheap.
These glasses were my father's,
he saw the world through these
and sometimes what I'm looking at,
it seems my father sees.
"These lenses don't feel right," he says,
"nothing's very clear."
"What do you expect?" I answer,
"you're not really here, Dad.