FATHER POEM

In Memoriam For My Father
The nurse asked me for his clothes:
a white shirt, a black tie,
black trousers and socks.
No need for shoes;
he was stripped
as I waited outside.

The shirt which used to be a perfect fit
hung loose at the neck,
caved in at the chest;
the tie's knot was uneven
ridiculously large;
he would have said
something about that.

His Rotary watch (a birthday present
from mum twenty years earlier)
was unfastened from his hand
and given to me,
congealed, on a worn leather strap,
still keeping the beat,
leaving a white patch on his wrist.