by Simon Cowan
‘Close the door Gary!’
my father’s patience thinned
with each time he said those words
and my nephew walked out of our living-room
leaving the door open.
He wanted to keep the heat in, he said
which gave me a picture of an unruly dog
who, if you didnt’ confine it
would foul the hall
dampen the linen
or start devouring shoes, socks or ties.
But dad laughed with the rest of us
when my brother-in-law told his son
‘whatever you do
don’t close the door’
and it closed
with a defiant
-refers from the word ‘parenthood’ in the poem Painting Day by Cory Funk.