In hospital more than out
ordering fruit for breakfast
was my father’s habit, he didn’t
especially like fruit
but he ordered it to give to me.
Everyday I visited:
here’s your banana;
you should eat it dad;
No, I got it for you to eat;
so I did and we laughed
and the next day we argued about it again
were in hospital the final time
and ordered fruit for breakfast.
I found it
still at the bottom of my purse
the day after you died.
down my face outside the supermarket
where I’d stopped to buy food
for my father – your husband’s dinner.
It was just that, you know, it was
the last tangible you gave me
and it couldn’t be saved.