Your Place
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Joe at his flat

Last year, I wrote a poem (a pantoum) called 'This Place' about visiting my son in the adolescent psychiatric unit where he spent four months (read it here).

He now has his own flat, living independently with support. So I decided to write a follow-up poem of the same length in the same style, hoping that this will illustrate the wonderful progression.

 
I come to see you at your place,
locked down for now, I have to drive
No frowns or shadows on your face,
you're by the door when I arrive

Locked down for now, I have to drive,
the dog sees you and starts to bark
You're by the door when I arrive
with plans for pizza in the park

The dog sees you and starts to bark,
a pack reunion, family
With plans for pizza in the park
and talking on your balcony

A pack reunion, family,
recalling where you were last year
And talking on your balcony -
now if we cry, it's happy tears

The place that you were in last year
has taught you, healed you, moved you on
Now if we cry, it's happy tears
of pride, and desperation gone

They taught you, healed you, moved you on,
a son, a self-sufficient friend
With pride, and desperation gone,
we look out at the future when

A son, a self-sufficient friend
no frowns or shadows on your face
We look out at the future when
we come to see you in your place