Yellow and orange: The colours of love

My father worked night shifts

on roadworks by the M25

and by morning I'd stomp

defiantly to the door

Welded tears to my face

and begged him to stay

I married his presence

with sunlight

without which I wilted

Perched on the stairs

and waited for his arrival

he bought me sunflowers

and took me to carparks

We ate sandwiches and

discussed monumental things

such as Toby fancying Sue

and my latest diary entry

which read:

‘Dad takes me to this car park, it is magnificent. There are trees and the sky is big. My favourite of all are two tilted traffic cones. We are them; they are us. He, the sun, and I, the flower. Gently bowing to one another with nods of recognition. Oh and today’s sandwich is ham and cheese’

He is gone now, as is much else

but there the cones remain

nonchalantly placed

just as I remember