by Bethany Cody

Born of the beach,

a young man from

Taffs Well,

gateway to the valleys,

an immigrant living

along the flat

shores of Glenelg.

A great-uncle,

an orphan –

hard life,

harder mind,

wounded, weary,

watchful – 

given off at

the age of one,

taken advantage of

by the system,

religion

the executor.

I remember you,

a decade before your death,

hospitable in your

unkempt apartment,

impromptu lunch,

talking with my parents,

seeded hamburger buns

mum checked for mould

on the sly.

You were always nice

to me; DNA passed down

from the brother you

loved to hate – 

the lucky one,

kept by your mum.