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WINTER – the final season
Summer has come and gone
without a whisper
The city
is much
quiter
its river slowing down
Winter is preparing to drop in
as if
some uninvited stranger
bringing
a touch of of menace to the air
I listen again
to the short message
my father has left
on my phone
He has been discharged
from the hospital
earlier than expected
They can do no more
I am to bring his car round to the entrance
as soon as possible.
He wants to get home.
The carpark exit barrier still stubbornly refuses to lift
while
I fumble wondering what to say
knowing
that I have let him down
again
one
final
time .
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LIFE , DEATH , SOME SUNTANCREAM AND EVERY THING IN BETWEEN
the waves break
with regular monotony
against the sandy shore
as I sit uneasily on my late wife`s favourite bench
on the promenade
trendy young joggers
listen to their private radio stations
ignoring everybody
massaging themselves with
high factor sun cream
in-between music changeovers
young mothers walk determinedly
behind their
sleek
turbo charged
baby strollers
occasionly assuring themselves
that all their fashion accessories
are secure
and
perfectly in order
the girl with the purple hair
and the pierced lip
flirts unitentionally
with all she meets
and wonders why everybody
seems so friendly
the young student
with the recently diagnosed tumour
smiles
in constant astonishment
at the blueness of the sea
the whiteness of the clouds
and the
distance purple mountains
the city council warden
sits anonymously
in a blue van
watching the people go by
noting all that is happening
and all
that is not happening
with some apprehension
I lift myself from the bench
walk slowly towards the water
my wifes ashes held in the cheap jewelry box
I bought for her in Woolworths
several lifetimes
ago.
Michael Burke
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The Galway Review 