HRH

In death, you are something of a thief, for you steal

the moment I watched you from a balcony in 2003

when you caught sight of the blonde wife of my boss

and gave her just a slightly extended glance

You steal my childhood memory of the coronation

Drizzling rain, a golden coach and sandwiches

in front of Uncle Jimmy’s television

that he got free because he worked for Pye

You steal the times that I got cross with you

for speaking out of turn

though I could never have done your job

without speaking out of turn

But you do not only steal from me

Your steadfast step is stolen from your wife

who knows how we must be prepared for anything

but can never be ready

You are a gallant, handsome old school thief,

for you have also stolen

memories of my mother, another staunch modernist

So this is my Duke of Edinburgh award to you

4 thoughts on “HRH

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