Edgar by Paul Waring

Edgar rented the boxroom,

infused our South Harrow semi

with laughter and Colombian light.

Flooded the lounge with colour,

freckled lilies and two-tone gerberas,

scented reminders of his mother in Cali.

Cooked her specialities: sancocho,

arroz atollado and ajiaco. Eyes like

polished espresso marbles, regaled

news of cruising conquests,

weekend leather bar encounters

in Earl’s Court. Lived life at full tilt

until the stove-hot summer AIDS

stole in, left him gaunt, took him

the night of October 1987’s Great Storm.

After the funeral, our lounge still lit

by flowers, warm as his smile –

like he’d never left.

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Paul Waring (he/him) is a retired clinical psychologist from Wirral, UK. His poetry is widely published in places such as Prole, Atrium, Ink, Sweat & Tears, The Lake, London Grip and elsewhere. Awarded second place in the 2019 Yaffle Prize, his debut pamphlet ‘Quotidian’ is published by Yaffle. www.waringwords.blog Twitter: @drpaulwaring