The smell of new curtains

It came from the right side like God, or a deer, a

Migraine warning;
Chemotherapy strikes at any time.

Where am I going wrong?

Under community skies and red roofed buildings, immaculate
And unfinished,

Holding on for next week’s rent,
Even if you were alive,

I’d not have listened,

Missing a father to say what’s wrong
In his opinion,

Old enough how,
To hear sterner words in music,

To understand that the clinic serves Japanese-Americans and Kenyans alike,
On the dusty Main Street of the farming village,

The dusty, ochre-coloured Main Street covered,
With maize drying, and

Women slipping from bus-stop to bus-stop with children in their hair, that was

Paid for,
By a man with a plan – the clinic,

And mum’s words,
Soft and gentle and supportive,

And different from yours;

I can take it now daddy,
Where did I go wrong?

I can make things right now,
The deer came from the left.

And whilst hindsight works in accidents we do not see coming,
At least Cancer gives us time.


♦Photo♦ –

-short evocative poetry-

5 thoughts on “The smell of new curtains

  1. Oh, Kenny,
    On a day I am deep into counting losses, I received your poem and began to cry for you. Who am I to suppose you are writing about yourself, but I think you are, and it makes me very sad. May you fight, fight, fight, dear brother…until you do not wish to fight anymore, or do not need to anymore. A lot of love coming at you from right where I sit, crying, over you and many things. xoxo

    • kreemer says:

      Rage until the dying of the light.
      Love you my friend……

      However, I’m Cancer free. It was for those who still are not, those who have already gone, and I melancholic reach for a father no longer here.

      You, my friend, are the master of words, and change.


  2. That was so beautiful!😃

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