A: Notepad Poem by Bladerunner

The death of you, dad, is everywhere.
I fill oceans with it as I touch your face -
Semi-cramped by its rising up.
This is one place no one swims
Or learns to tread water.

And we, your son and daughter
Cannot hold it off, neither can the doctor
Or the laughter from the kids down the corridor -
No flesh or blood, no exit door
We can find to pull you through and make you live.

Nothing else to give.
Joy has gone and life itself is soon to follow.
Even the low light under your skin,
With its iridescent hue,
Cowers at deaths great intro to the room.

I watch for a moment as it brushes over you like a broom,
Your feet twitch as if being tickled by it.
Everyone is here - from casting a line to swinging a club -
Buried by each breath of air
That doesn't reach deep enough.

The death of you dad is everywhere. It's in the rough
Calluses of your hands, your own readiness to be going -
It's a door knock too soon, a calling bell,
A black hurst pushing round the bend.
This is the road I grew up on, a death march through to end.

And unlike you, greeting this thing with a handshake,
I cannot shake off this dominant view -
Even after the claiming -
Of darks clouds rising up in your hazel emeralds,
Scattering you like starlings

And mum's words falling, "don't cry my darlings."
And yet, almost simultaneously, what sweet scent
permeates now - the memory - the warm sundown
Glow of you stretching over walls,
Filling rooms and places, I live.

You are in every smile and laughter of my kids,
How I wish I could bag and bottle these up,
Your living years - so many of which I've missed,
But like a door on a latch
They close off quicker than they open,

And like a child that has lost a balloon in the sky,
I cannot get you back,
And there is no map or route to navigate by.