John Kay

After Grandfather went funny

He took me for a morning walk,

Looking neither left nor right,

Straight across the Great North Road.

Returning home he spoke of home

As elsewhere. He took his coat,

Then another, a third on his arm,

That's mine, too, stuck a cap

(Just one) upon his head

And caught the bus to town.

Neighbours stared at this

Old walking hat-stand.

Who's with my wife in bed?

He asked my aunt on his return.

That night my uncle woke,

Found his father at his side,

Sharp kitchen knife in hand.

Adultery and infanticide

Stalked the old man's brain.

He, lay-preacher, upright man,

Ventured from his native village,

Became a joiner in the town,

In '16 saw his men enlist,

March singing to the Somme.

Too late at fifty-five, to start anew?

What did he muse upon that man

I'd walked beside? No words

Can I remember, I only see

A grey moustache, flat cap and stick.

My aunt forgot quite recent things

But not her upright father or the past

Though she di not seem to think

Of what he may have thought.

©Terry Hodgson2025