Silently scribbled
Over my fathers notebook
His presence is felt
Before I even open it up
Touched with
His fingerprints
Stained in fountain ink
And his doctors
Spiral signature
On the back cover

Feeling out its weight
And the colour
Of its paper
Which I would have
Dismissed as been
Too forceful

The line lengths
Which restrict
The size of my words
To almost miniature

The emotions
Dusted down across time
Left on the back
Of a shelf

Half faded
In the weight of nerves
Crippled across time

Collaborating in memory
With your touch.