Only a Word

‘Mum, why did you call him dad?’Even now, five years later, I hear his tone.He was puzzled, perplexed even that hisGrandad seemed to have another name.Anna was taking something from the bootOf her fancy, huge new American Jeep.She turned to answer his question, and herTone expressed an amused bewilderment:‘Cause he’s my dad Roman, why’d you think?’But the world to a five year old is solid,Held fast like a toy made of timeless gold,Opaque, but a Shining new delight -Not an icicle, translucent and soon lostAs the sun burns the minutes in your mind.And the world is a place of things with names -Names and things being Siamese twinsWhich cannot simply live apart.

Alice pondered: ‘Can you make wordsMean different things?’A five year old will answer noIn this Wonderland of our creation.But time will teach him, I know for sure,That words for some will always meanExactly what they think they mean -So words and deeds will go theirSeparate ways.