When a teen who was tall
sat, without being told
on the bench, flaunting hair
that was green red and blue
in the light there was glare
of a violet hue.
So the grandfather stared
while they sat with a smile
many minutes they shared
in the presence of style.
Said the boy ‘have you never
in your life done a deed
that was crazy and clever
and an innermost need? ‘
Without waiting, the answer
was delivered, ‘ I drank
in my youth, as a dancer
at the river’s steep bank
on a day in December
caught a peacock, had sex
and I clearly remember
coloured feathers, long legs.
For a terror-filled minute
did the thought of that fun
when I really was in it
ask, could you be my son.’