The angle of light cast by the low-voltage downlighters
Produced a seagull-shaped shadow
On the station-style clock face set upon our piano,
Banking the bird ever-so-slightly to the right
On its eleven-past-nine wings.
Even manufactured, artificial,
Contrived in my mind
It was still effortlessly beautiful -
Metaphorical:
Time;
Time flying;
Time flown
Above the photo of my parents:
That photo.
That last photo.
The one before I became singularised
And downsized
In the only heritage department that matters
Or ever will.
You brought me into the world,
Though you paid a daughterless,
Son-plus-less price for the privilege.
I took the photo:
That last photo,
With my beloved OM 10,
Your 18th birthday present to me
Which faithfully served its in-built purpose
And registered your image:
The pink blouse with the high, ruffed neck
You'd bought in M
