This Frail One in the Wilderness

Alun looks after things.The old railway. The willow by the black pond. The moss he presses into the joins so the arrangements hold. His mother, in the chair by the telly, who still makes his tea the way he likes it.It is August in Caerphilly. The heat has soaked into the land and will not let go. Four old men have already been found. One has not. Alun does not watch the news for long. He has his r...