"I'm just popping out for the papers",
he always used to say,
"I won't be too long, so try to be strong",
he'd laugh, "whilst I am away".
Part of the ritual, the daily round
of retirements humdrum existence,
but comforting in its familiarity,
and enfolding in its consistence.
An aneurism they called it,
like a blockage inside a drain,
exacerbated by his running
to try to escape from the rain.
Some mornings now, I have to admit,
I get an attack of the vapours,
when I look at his chair, but then I think,
he's just popped out for the papers.
Copyright © John Jones | Year Posted 2020
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