Death of An Uncle, and the Melted Lego Man
I had only just begun to understand
the meaning of death when my uncle died.
Before him, death was something that
happened to family members of which
I had never seen nor spoken to.
Sometimes they were brought back to
us during dinner time, Dad would down
his beer and speak of their yesteryears.
The day my uncle died my mothers face
changed it sagged like a wet flannel
stuck to a bathroom wall.
She grew large sacks under her eyes
these were where here tears gathered
I remember thinking.
And her face, her face reminded me of
my little lego mans, he had fallen from
his turret into the hungry coal fire two
years before, Father rescued him from
the flames, carried him like a newborn bird
in the soft folds of his palm.
When father returned him to me, his face
was suspended, frozen yellow droplets
ran down his yellow smiling face.
After the funeral and after those unknown
well wishers had drunk themselves sad
I fetched my little Lego man, and replaced
his head with the smiling pirates one
I gave it to my mother, and she like the Pirate smiled.
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