To Alexander Graham

Lying asleep walking Last night I met my father Who seemed pleased to see me. He wanted to speak. I saw His mouth saying something But the dream had no sound. We were surrounded by Laid-up paddle steamers In The Old Quay in Greenock. I smelt the tar and the ropes. It seemed that I was standing Beside the big iron cannon The tugs used to tie up to When I was a boy. I turned To see Dad standing just Across the causeway under That one lamp they keep on. He recognised me immediately. I could see that. He was The handsome, same age With his good brows as when He would take me on Sundays Saying we’ll go for a walk. Dad, what am I doing here? What is it I am doing now? Are you proud of me? Going away, I knew You wanted to tell me something. You stopped and almost turned back To say something. My father, I try to be the best In you you give me always. Lying asleep turning Round in the quay-lit dark It was my father standing As real as life. I smelt The quay’s tar and the ropes. I think he wanted to speak. But the dream had no sound. I think I must have loved him.