THE SAME POEM

for Riley

I have the faulty gene, it's in my blood.
My Mum took strokes, i hate to say this
but one of my sons will too. There is no one
to blame for this. I sit here in this wheelchair
in this living-room bathing in light. The sun
streams in on this almost spring day.

The past the present and the future are here
Nietzesche Spike Milligan and Ray Carver
beside my grandsons activity centre. Seems
i've been writing the same poem i was writing
when my son was two, those magic moments
go round and round. The sun is gone and the grey
is moving in but I'm armed to the teeth with love.