Dad
Do You Ever Think Of Me?
Dad
Not anymore, not now,
once, maybe, unsure
Dad
Do you still wear green overalls?
I don’t think so but I’d like to see that
One more time
The dad I remember
Green overalls smeared in engine oil
Always growing something in his patch of warm soil
Tube of Polos visible in one top pocket
A tin of tobacco in another
Dad
Fiddling with cars, smoking roll-ups
There were rows, but it was mostly silence
You gave my mother
Tall and broad, deep voiced
A look of Indiana Jones
With the men out the front fixing cars
Didn’t seem you wanted to be at home
Dad
Don’t know if I’d call you that
Not now
You once said to me, I’m no one’s dad
And I’ve wondered since then
How long you felt like that
Was it upon knowing I existed?
Or was it upon my birth as a nameless girl
You didn’t tell your parents about
When I came into this world
Strange dad, you’re strange, Dad
And I’ll never work you out
But we once had a conversation about the stars above us
You knew more than I realised
And we once talked on the phone about a family tree
And you sounded proud and excited
Dad, talking about your ancestry
Like something inside had been ignited
Dad
Did I ever call you that?
Like that? Dad, Dad, Dad
Must have once called you Daddy
Always remember wanting your time
But somehow knowing
It wasn’t mine
Dad
The last time I saw you, there were tears in your eyes
I still want to know how you feel inside
Dad
Didn’t always come home
Lived in a caravan all alone
Liked to watch the Grand Prix
Was warmer at Christmas with a whisky or three
Dad
you were like a giant to me
I don’t think you knew me
I don’t think you see
Dad
Still out there somewhere
But never close to me
I wonder every day
If you ever think of me
