Here is something unfinished that I’ve been working on for a few days. I have a feeling that it’s one of those poems that will never be finished.
Ireland
Chime, chime
my sweet darling
when you walk outside in the morning,
dog at your heels
*
The wind breathes
through the shells you’ve hung from the doorjamb
I can hear you talking to the waves
as they call you from the cliff bottom
but only for a moment
before the moss has swept you away
*
I can see you trotting through wet grass
hair, still unbrushed, floating behind you
laughing at the hawk who swoops at a fish
and misses
but only just
*
I smell the sea with you
smell the salt of your tears
even though you’re still smiling
and the dog is still barking
*
You haven’t changed much
since I last pressed tea-warmed
wind-burnt
sea-sworn lips to your freckled skin
*
But the rain falls softer now
and you no longer wipe the ashes
from the pictures on the mantelpiece
