I remember the ward, the taste
Of too-clean air and nervousness.
I can’t remember if I knew
Or if I just thought her sleeping.
Enamoured by swans and salmon
I had not read the book in full
When I plucked it from the shelf and
My father called it perfect.
Some serendipity had come
On an otherwise maudlin day
And with it some small scent of fate
That still hangs about me now.
If we went to Mass, I can’t say.
I recall too many people
Stood in our back garden while I
Tried to use the swing. And someone
I don’t know asked me how I was.
It was too sunny for August.
And Mam had made the sandwiches
With too many things in them.
A fortnight later school was back.
Did I go? Did it affect me?
Did teachers make concessions or
Pull me aside to check on me?
I remember intrusive friends
Saw her picture on the mantle
And asked me what happened to her.
I had never had to answer that.
In Nana’s, beneath the pitched roof,
My mother was crying and there
Was little I could do to help.
So, I offered to get water.
I told them that glass was the cause.
I don’t believe I believed it
But Mam overheard and quickly
She put the idea to rest.
Every memory after that
Is a birthday or a blessing.
A quintet of rosy balloons
Stolen by the autumn winds.
We stand upon the border ditch
As they soar out over the sea.
We see whose can stay in sight
Whose can soar the highest before
We lose track of all five and
Shuffle back out to the car.
A Little Bit about the Poem
If there were one work I'd choose to survive me, it'd be this. It is the only poem I have written that does not rhyme. I tried to make it rhyme for a long time, but it resulted only in unfair embellishments. I had to write it before I forgot anything else. I had been reading a lot of Kavanagh at the time of writing, I like to think there's something like him in there.
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