Oliver Plunkett Street, Cork
You walk like a bird drenched in the rain
towards the last metre that’s been reserved for you.
You want to stop some place and listen
to that girl with her guitar weeping nearby,
with raindrops falling on her hair
and warm tears emerging from the strings.
Though she’s young enough to be your daughter,
you still want her to teach you the truth
through the notes she sings while weeping.
You’re in need of a breather before the last metre,
you need to browse through the pictures of
your mother, your father and your siblings,
try to understand why you’re a stranger.
Or flip through the pictures of those lovers
who came along to love you, while you
turned aside your excellent face.
You’re in need of a breather before the last metre,
to have a pause so at last you’ll understand.
But how can you grab the sea in your hand?
How can you pack all this away now?
Do you remember what happened to you once upon a time?