White Envelope

20th June 12pm

It’s just happened

cast on my welcome mat
in unfamiliar hand
a white envelope ticks
amongst the bank statements and
supermarket vouchers

through the tour bus tiredness and
motorway night drive
unletterheaded type swims

were you born in…
during the early part of…
no urgency in reply…
use the SAE provided…

tears slip and splash
dampening the mat

I reply by return

It loops back by phone from the agency

your mother’s been registered
to make contact with you
for over ten years, and you’ve siblings too.
The matronly contralto rises excitedly:

oh, and it’s your dad who
was the one who was black
he’s still about and wants in on the act!

STOP

I can’t stand the jubilant babbling
from a stranger who knows
more about me than I do. I

fix a trip, so they can tell me
face to face
where mine came from