Looking For Jack

i.m. John Harvey 1923-2011

Did you see him?

Was it his boots that tapped a steady clip
Down to the forge in the early morning
And back home to his wife and daughters
In the forgiving dusk?

Did you hear him?

Was it his stories, jokes so droll
He lifted his head and let out the open-throated laugh
That was one man’s amazement
At life’s little absurdities?

Was that his sigh?

The satisfaction of having found
His true pal, raised his family,
Stayed at the same firm for forty years,
Built the best life his hands could make?

Then, having seen his daughters married,
He retired with full honours
And struck out bravely in his sixties
On package tours to see a bit of the world,
Opened up to life,
Danced once again to a proper big band
By an Italian lake in the moonlight.

Diminished, widowed, unseeing,
Only his final year was one of chastened
Hope, of a stuttering in his
Master plan, in the beautiful arc of his life.

Was it him after all?
Did he pass this way?

I only know this,
Putting the bratty DJ in the flat below
To shame, out of an open window
I heard, not hymns, but
Frank, Sammy, Ella, Dino, Duke,
Giving even his last days
A thumbs-up style,
A sure-footed grace,
A perfect swing.