My father

My father

Built a garage in the garden

Laying the cement

Throwing up the walls

It had two windows,

Pretty soon they were

Covered in cobwebs

The joints full of woodlice.

Were the spiders merely waiting

Did they plant the idea

In my father’s head

I wouldn’t bet against it.

In summer the inside was

As warm as toast.

The car had an oil leak

From a cracked sump

After a winter freeze,

Flies drowned in the puddle.

The footprints of mice

Criss-crossed the floor

From the toolbox to the door.

I worried they might get tangled

In the moving parts

The squeak and crunch

When he turned on the motor

A cry of anguish

As I imagined their fear.

So much of the world

Is unknown,

Many years later

Curiosity dragged me back

Lord knows why

As nobody missed me.

The people had gotten older

The houses smaller

And the garage was gone.

Just an empty space

A featureless garden

With a trampoline

My heart went out

To homeless spiders

Everywhere

The flies were fatter

As the pace of life slowed.

The village was full of

Lost causes

Everything looked smaller

There were no Elephants

Hiding in the rhubarb

The dogs were at war

And the mice

Drove

Featureless cars

In and out of potholes