Today’s choice
Previous poems
Ben Banyard
Day of the Dead
Granny introduced us to her parents,
her uncle who moved to South Africa in 1912,
the grandfather I never knew and his family.
There were hundreds of them, all in period costume,
each generation explained who they were,
queued like at a wedding reception to greet us.
We had facial features in common, noses and eyes,
high foreheads and dimples on chins.
Some laughed, some liked to drink, some danced,
the Quakers and Methodists found a quiet corner.
They were from Birmingham, Stratford-upon-Avon,
rural parts of Ireland, Devon and Cornwall, Wales,
some didn’t speak English and might have been Flemish.
One by one they waved goodbye and exchanged hugs
until only the living were left in the hall.
We agreed it was worth doing, to put faces to names.
Ben Banyard lives in Portishead, on the North Somerset coast. His three collections to date are Hi-Viz (Yaffle Press, 2021), We Are All Lucky (Indigo Dreams, 2018) and Communing (Indigo Dreams, 2016). Ben edits Black Nore Review . Website:benbanyard.wordpress.com
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