Lighting The Touch Paper Copyright © Sally Warrell 12 July 2009

Three years after he died
I dreamt my father phoned
From the other side
And in my dreams
I didn't take the call

Waking, I was left to
Wondering what he might
Have had to say now that
Death had loosened his tongue

In the last two years of
His life his voice once full
As wine with fruity notes
And deeper undertones
Had dried to a trickling
Whisper, and then fallen
Silent except for the
Occasional sputter
As when we were alone
And he said "Talk to me"

And then I hadn't known
What to say to someone
Who can't reply at all
Not knowing who was there

"Would you like tea or cake?"
I made the sign for T
With shaking hands his
Gesture mirrored mine
And in his eyes I saw
A flicker of the old
Humour, lighting a fire