Palette

I miss your scent,

Your cigarette tainted breath,

The way you whistled through your rotting teeth.

I miss your laugh,

Crinkles embracing your eyes,

Before they changed from hazel to blue-grey.

I miss your hands,

Callous skin browned by the sun,

Like the onions you grew in your garden.

I miss your clothes,

Your earthy V-neck jumpers,

And the jelly shoes you wore on the beach.

I miss your eyes,

The warm way that they smiled,

So mesmerised by your watercolours.

I miss your voice,

Your sweet Scottish stutter,

Reminiscing about when you were a boy.

But of all things, I'd give the world,

To be in the kitchen at Tiraghoil, washing up dishes,

Your asbestos hands plunging my delicate palms into the blistering suds, 

Gazing at the Caledonian sunset.

Reviews

[KurKota]

Wonderful expression of memories, and a great tribute !