Family legend has it he packed it in his rucksack to hammer in tent-pegs when he went hiking in the Zugspitze. Almost an international incident – Liverpool medic stranded in Germany at the outbreak of war.
Where his ancestors quarried stone he worked in bone – trading their crude tools for something neat and silver. He tapped my childish reflexes – mostly in fun – always the same knee-jerk reaction.
Once when my injured leg unnumbed he placed a football at my foot and tapped my knee-cap and when I kicked the ball he clapped and clapped as if I'd scored a goal for England.
Michael Henry has been published by Enitharmon Press, his most recent collection is After the Dancing Dogs. This poem is from The Hippocrates Prize 2011, published by The Hippocrates Prize in association with Top Edge Press. © Michael Henry
Chosen by Femi Oyebode.
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