Issue 16, March 1998
Alex Pilling - Poem

You were seventeen again
high as a kite on morphine;
made swollen and weak as a kitten
by the vicious side-effects
of the rampant cancer raging
through your weary body.
But you weren't raging.
You were singing
to the band that played
at that wartime dance
so many years before my birth.

As I gazed in wonder 
into your distant, sparkling eyes
and rapturously listened
to your happy chatter,
I was angry that I'd never known
this vivacious girl;
I was jealous of all those
who were in your company that night
so long ago as you danced
and laughed your cares away.

And within a few short days;
It was me
who held you
during your final frantic
struggle for life;
It was me
who saw you home
to the end of your painful
journey through 
that troubled lifetime;
It was me
who stroked your hair
and soothed your terror
of the encroaching darkness.

And it was me
who clutched 
your cooling lifeless hand
weeping
through those long and bitter hours
before the dawn
of the first day
of my life without you;

Because it was me
who fell so in love
with the bright and witty young girl
who was lost and gone
well before we met
on the day of my birth.
 
But.  We had always known
that it would end this way,
just you and your favourite son;
And I will be forever grateful
that I finally
got to meet you
before I was born.