after he’d made a knot
to his son’s Dior tie & sent him off

I am sure he turned something on
like a radio, played some blues

then rested his hands on a pillow
although I would’ve preferred them on me

and I know he had the feeling grandpa
used to feel when all his hay was sheltered

and the rain could start if it wanted to
but I wasn’t there, nor the mum of his son

I almost went into his room showed him
my red painted nails put his arms around to dance

he would’ve liked that now, I kept quiet
instead never told him it is too late

and there was a time, yeah
yet, I am proud