Peace

The leaf leaves without a word,
lets loose the grip and falls.
Father went the way of the leaf.

He told me casually, months before the fall,

‘It gets easier the closer you get,
a thing I never expected,
it gets easier the closer you get.’

I reached out to touch his arm,
noticed his skin had become speckled,
as if he was returning to the egg
after all the time spent in the sun.

His hand rested palm upwards,
the fingers gave a slight tremble,
and I was reminded
of a poem by Seamus Heaney;
dad had grown tired of holding us.

I watched each moment
hatch in his chest
until the next moment never came.

It was like
an ocean without waves
or the sun without light.

He fought at the end despite
his words. I wept…but water
cannot erase the truth.

Clearing their names

 

It was on Faraday Street that

Fox and Wolf came to me.

They could see the fearful way my feet

trod the steps towards school where

ideas buzzed about in the forest of unbroken voices,

ignorance stinging my mind

as if the beaks of springtime woodpecker

sought blind answers..

In the years since

both have been treated harshly,

painted as miscreants

who lead me asunder.

Truth is, Fox and Wolf understood

my dilemma,  pulled me out

of the maelstrom of school,

took me to the island

where it was said a cure might be found.

Man-time scared me, the swift urgent current

of action, of movement, more terrifying

than lightning; life in flesh resembles

a forest fire. The ability of legs, in recompense,

seems miserly.

The Island was a deceit

but Wolf and Fox

were always kind while around me

the world spun out of kilter.

In the craziness of those Island days

I lost contact with them both -

it is an easy thing for me to do,

forced as I am to pinpoint everything down

to single moments laid side by side by side.

Construction

There are quiet days when I sit

in a room's comforting corner,

study moving joints that permit

knee, ankle, thumb and finger.

The leap for a cell to acquire

complex structure is almost enough

to make me believe but desire

and truth are not the same language.