Rose He did not back awaywhen the first glowing someone in his lifeencompassed him in welcoming arms She told him to stop twitchingwhenever she enfolded him I'm here, she said, in case you haven't noticed Foresight He knew misfortune was on its waywhenever his mother said You have to laugh Expose When his mother complainedabout the cost of carrots he heard unleashed despair Missing His father called them his urchins,the sparrows who came to the yard each morning for the breadcrumbs he scattered He longs to see sparrows again,those bustling, chirruping little birdspossessed of the obstinate power of the songless Humorous If, when he's dying,he's nothing left to say he'll feel bereft Conversing He wants to meet Anton Chekhovand drink champagne with him in Odesa They'll stay happily silentuntil they toast the Widow Clicquot with the last of the bottle Night He clutches the pillow before he sleeps, wanting warmth He'll wake in the morning, he knows, embracing someone once embraceable There's no end to their number now,the ones he cares to fondle before he vanishes The multifaceted English writer Paul Bailey, born in south London in 1937, published his first poetry collection, Inheritance, with CB Editions in 2019.
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