Uncle

‘Good riddance,’ I muttered, under my breath

As they closed the coffin lid,

My father clipped me around the ear,

Then said: ‘He’s just a kid!

He shouldn’t be here at the funeral,

It’s not a place for the young.’

But I knew better, and glared at him

He knew I’d wanted to come.

 

Just to be sure and certain that

He’d never be coming back,

I’d skipped and pranced in my attic room

When I heard of his heart attack,

I’d crossed my fingers, muttered to God

‘Can you please take him away!’

But it took a couple of weeks before

His heart had stopped that day.

 

He’d stood so tall in his overcoat

And his form had filled the door,

He cast a shadow all over me

As I glared down at the floor,

His eyes were piercing, brows were grim

When he said, ‘How’s Jack the lad?’

I felt like saying ‘Terrible now!’

He made me feel so bad.

 

My heart would drop to my boots when he

Came calling in the rain,

He’d chat a bit with my mother, then

Would climb the stairs again.

He always came, and he’d close the door

So I’d feel both sad and trapped,

He’d say, ‘…you happy to see me lad?’

But when he left, I clapped.

 

I thought of him as a monster with

His long and pointed teeth,

He looked like a picture of Dracula

When he grinned, they called him Keith.

I knew he was mother’s brother, but

He came from a different mould,

From something evil and slimy like

A demon, I’d been told.

 

My friend was into the evil ones

And he picked him right away,

‘He’s one of the demons of Beelzebub,

That’s why he wants to play.

He’ll back you into a corner so

You’ll never get out the door…’

My friend was right, and gave me a fright,

Though he was only four.

 

My mother, after the funeral

Had cried and hugged me close,

‘You shouldn’t fret, or cry my pet…’

I thought ‘Oh yes, that’s gross!’

I stood looking out of the window

At the last of the winter rain,

If only he hadn’t pushed me aside

So he could play with my train!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

Oh so brooding and dark Yet in the eyes of a child larger than life characters take on a sinister tone. I felt this way of my grandfather when i was but a lad.i changed my toon when I grew up and found him a multifacited fellow. But he scared the bejesus out of me when i was young. Tagged me with a horse whip and threw me with one hand across the room . He was from a darker time when men were men and children were nothing.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Good story.

[Natasha]

Clever indeed! I also thought at first it was about child-abuse. Rather nice ending to the whole story. In a way I think each reader will interpret this, in a bad or good way.

[sue]

ha ha. funny how kids can store a vengeance over such a silly thing and regret it when they pass over and you wish you had more time. Great write. sadness with humour attached to it.

[Dhaye]

I can feel the innocence...and sadness, for the loss of a relative who has been misjudged as a bad one by the poor boy. Sometimes, our innocence can lead us to wrong decisions and misconceptions...

[Dalia]

A very interesting poem, a masterpiece, I enjoyed the innocence I felt in it.
Thank you for writing and sharing it with us.

[Marie]

I was really starting to think badly of that uncle until I dixcovered he only wanted to play with a train. Unless that wasn't all he wanted...

[Silent Kim aka mizmetap..]

Classic. I like how you obscured the beginning. I questioned all the way to the end that it could of been an adult in the casket because of the kids' thoughts. Then the end just brought it home. Great work as always, never disappointed.

[Carolann Dowsett]

This is a very interesting poem with a lot of dark undertones and meaning. On the surface it is a fun read but underneath there is something else lurking, some truth that is just begging to be told and understood. As usual amazing stuff, your poems are a delight to read.

[Valentine]

David..at first I was expecting child abuse..but the old guy was just a kid at heart and wanted to play with his train..You wrote this very well...and I am glad it did notd turn into child abuse..Top notch as I always expect from you..love Kathie

[quinfinn]

i always expect great things when i see your name and i have yet to be challenged on that expectation. i think of you as the great storyteller of writerscafe and it goes without saying, the reasons why. thank you, David, for another well rounded and entertaining piece to fill a Friday afternoon.