Paradise
Climbing up into my father’s
Barrow of cut grass
And sinking gently, all that
Thick warm moisture
Moulded round me, then
The mower’s hum becoming louder,
Nearer, stuttering to a halt
And Dad pretending not to know
I’m in there, shaking out
Another load of luscious
Freshness onto me and muttering
I wonder where he is?
And me about to answer
Here I am but then
Deciding not to.
Copyright: from Back to Midnight (Puffin, 1994) first published in The Mad Parrot’s Countdown (Peterloo, 1990) © John Mole 1990, used by permission of the author