LOW HISTORY
 
 

  Folded notes of many people's days
  In the sun and sand, wind and rain
  Mere words won't hold you dear
  To me here, oh fair one of tear filled days

   Who is the lonely little girl on the step?
   Whose motor bike sits in the courtyard?
   Whose wife is in the pub?
   Who does the lonely little girl watch

  Me, maybe her mother,  through the pub window
  Who is to blame for her there, every day she is there

   A young woman now, she holds no grudges
   Against me, her mother, life, none at all
   A resilience she shouldn't have had to show

  Her slight figure on a concrete step
  Is mirrored for me as I ride away
  Peering in at a drinking mother
  And hearing a father riding off
  Are not memories she should have

   Perhaps I will beat myself up, with bad memories
   Of unlove and low deeds
   I don't think that will help

  Me, her mother, her, she is in love now
  Her mother  has gone to University
  Me ---- shrug
  I am still her father
  And life continues.