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.
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