At My Brother's House

 
A Day Begins
Brightening morning mist
lightens the big kitchen,
old family clock chimes half-past
continues its loud tick-tock
keeping generational order -
grandfather Albert looking on, smiling.
The large Aga, master of many a Sunday roast,
boils its first kettle of the day
as the kitchen tap drips once every 16 tocks
and the fridge hums with a twenty-year ease.
 
Signal
Sister-in-law undergoing chemo,
two out of eight done,
and everything in the house looks the same
yet feels a little different,
slightly edgy, closer to the bone.
Extra washing of hands and surfaces
reminds of the delicacy of life.
Next year their older son gets married,
date set in May, and you never know
the final outcome.
 
Labradoodles
A snuffling puff of wind
ruffles Digby the labradoodle’s hair
while Meg the older dog
lies with 4-legged ease on a sunny patch
of the patio, head rested on a shallow step.
I throw a ball down the garden
which Digby catches in mid-air
as Meg raises one eyebrow, snorts,
shuffles her position to more comfortable
and dozes some more  
knowing it’s nearing dinner-time.
 
Ukelele Serendipity
Final night before we catch our flight
my brother invites us to join in
with his fortnightly ukulele band practice;
tonight it’s Beatles songs.
We glide silently 7 miles
in his all-electric Nissan Leaf
and park behind a new member arriving,
driving the same car. Introducing ourselves,
he has just moved from Llanidloes in Wales -
the very place we intend to move to from Portugal
and he gives us his email, plus a contact address.
We’re each handed a spare ukulele
and two hours later
we can strum C-F-G-C-C-F-Dm-G like
a couple of pros.