I watched my father stooping on the path
to pick up all the rotten plums that fell
and made the old dog fart before the fire.
I took him to the place I used to dwell,
showed him all four corners of the forest,
took him to the shed that we might lunch
among the cobwebs and old tins of paint.
I tried to tell him where I had gone wrong,
tried, while breaking bread upon my knee,
to tell him he’d been right, right all along.
He smiled, while brushing down some fallen crumbs,
and said he must get back to clear the plums.
Now as the day recedes into the past,
I watch my father stooping on the path.
*
I want to know more, said M. Tell me about these plums of yours.
Not mine, I said. My father’s.
Your father’s then, said M., rustling some papers on his desk. Your father’s plums, do tell me please all about your father’s plums. It may help you get to the heart of things.
I’d like that, I said.
Yes, said M. Like a lettuce.
A lettuce? I said.
Yes, the pure white heart of a lettuce, crisp, firm.
There were no plums, I said.
No plums? said M.
That’s right, I said. No plums.
Pity, he said. I’d like to have talked about plums.
There are no plums upon the ground at midnight. There is only the silver path, swept of leaves, purple stained in blotches. Look! We can walk along the path together and into the quiet of the summerhouse.
I’d like that, said M.
[originally posted 16 June 2013 – the second part was added later. I have no idea who the inquisitor ‘M’ is or what this means, other than it demonstrates my opinion that lyric poetry inevitably contains fictive elements. It was written shortly after my father’s death but has little to do with my actual real-life father. After all, there were no plums.]
Another Way of Saying 
Very nice! Thanks for following my blog.. 🙂
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Thanks for liking Plums – a sad poem in some ways in that it deals with the inability of a father and son to communicate meaningfully at an important time. Only semi-autobiographical I might add. Look forward to reading your blog later and please stop by Another Way Of Saying again.
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Sure! I am already following you.. 🙂 I like your blog.. Keep on writing nice stuffs! 🙂 Thanks, Nigel..
Jeannie
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Thanks Jeannie. Early days for my blog but am learning – today I need to catch up on my reading, including your own blog. Thanks again for the positive feedback
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You are welcome, Nigel! thank you also for reading my blog… 🙂
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Reblogged this on Another Way of Saying.
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A bit mysterious. There’s just something about him stooping for the plums.
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Thank you – much appreciated.
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Liked this. My dad and I never really communicated, but I know he loved me. Just his way I guess. Still sad that we missed the opportunities that availed themselves.
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Same here – whenever we spoke it was to do with the practicalities of life – never life’s deeper issues. Thanks for your comment oldmainer.
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This is so beautiful
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a lovely comment, which is much appreciated – thank you
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