It is a Father’s Tale
Time out of time I carried you in your dressing gown
downstairs out into the moonless night.
We gazed at a thousand suns studding the sky;
meandering along back lanes I lifted your arm
to point at Orion, drifting above rooftops.
We drew a ‘w’ and a triangle in the dark bowl,
traced a hunter’s belt and coloured in a lion,
a charioteer, a plough and a little bear.
I didn’t know then that you’d drift out of reach
when I reached for the thousand and one stories
to keep you listening – to keep you where
trolls, giants and goats sleep under bridges.
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