(for Paul)

When I came in from the snow,
across the park out of town,
you stared at me standing:
blue wellies
green parka
red woolly hat.
You stared at
my carrier bag
HMV Records.

You’ve never been into HMV
looking like that.
You might have been seen
by one of my friends.

And I was with you,
black crombie
Doc Martens
close shaved head.
I walked beside your jeans, more holes than patches.
At your grandfather’s 70th birthday party
for all the relations,
I danced with you.
And your feather earring.

So I was glad you were there
when I came in from the snow.

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