Summing Up (on the death of my Father)

There are disadvantages, My lack of Algebra,

But how you could do the maths.

When adding up all this used time,

Equations disappear like a boy-racer on the run

Sums dawdle and toddle in a toyshop rhyme.

I would like to express some time as –

A = X 1 million.

Other times don‘t deserve any letter, from any alphabet,

Would indeed, indent into fractions of trillions of minus’ –

And that was my, your, a life I suppose.

Equating the fastness of time, to sound and light,

Extracts those summers, the disappearing nights.

Life’s productions multiplied

To appropriate pleasures,

The joy subtracted from pain

Is that equal to funs gain?

What did one accrue in all those years?

Of time wasted never made

Promises broken not saved.

The points that stack up from birth to death,

The medals, the prizes were they worth that sweat?

Television smiles, headline news

The disappointment in sizes,

The derision, and the surprises.

At least there were hands to hold in the end

Eh? 1 plus 1 equals love, invented

Laugh, fun and joy, cemented.

But for what, once you’ve gobbled up your lot?

Actually -That’s quite a bit at the end of the pot.

Sophie Parkin

Photo by Claire Lawrie

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