by William

He looked up at me

“Hi Dad” I said

His eyes were inspecting me

Up and down, side to side

“You are not my son” he said


“My son is young, he’s still at school

You are not my son, your hair is grey”

“It’s me, Dad

It’s your son Greg”


The nurse came over and settled him down

“Tony, its Greg, your son”

I saw the panic in his eyes

He didn’t know who I was


“Hey Dad, everything’s okay

I’ve brought you some presents for Christmas day

Let’s sit down together

So you can open your gifts


My Dad smiled and said

“Christmas is a lovely time

What did you say your name was?”

“Gregory” I responded


“That’s a beautiful name

Did you know that my son

Is also called Gregory?”


2 Comments to “Gregory”

  1. Bittersweet . . . . The last few months before she passed away, my mom didn’t recognize me–but she thought I was nice and pretty. 🙂 A lovely poem, William.

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