‘Musical please!’ says Andrew
‘What will it be? Maybe Cats,
Chitty, Chitty Bang, Bang or
Joseph – a good one, please - a favourite!’
We sit eating breakfast,
porridge, like Bears in a story.
Loudly, he soars into ‘Les Mis’
‘He’s like the son I might have known!’
Sudden tears pour volcanoes of water
as my throat drops on-down into wells;
‘the son I might have known’ sees much further
than any old heartless ambition
and an angel carousing beside me
smiles from his face like the sun.