Til Daddy Comes Home (for Ruthie)
The wind
talking with the voices
of the trees
as if a ventriloquist
or playing now
that discarded twisted trumpet
etched in frost
a long lonely note
a hanging
pub sign
THE DOG & DUCK
trying to break free
unleased by the wind's fury
turning yesterday's TIMES
into many storied seagulls
MAN. U'S LOSS!
flying in my face
making me swerve
wobble
almost topple
oops
off
the bicycle threatening
to become
airborne
with every gust
unpegging a sheet
from a clothsline
losing its mind
as if it created
a ghost
that chases me
down the street
[...] Read more
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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