WALKING WITH GRANDFATHER

Spend the morning
walking with the ghost


of my grandfather
hale and hearty in 1922.


He takes a bit of time
getting use to 2017.


Me trying to get to know
a man I never knew.


He has a new son
my father-yet-to-be.


I walk these fields seeing
what he would have seen


following in his footsteps
time doesn't matter now.


Time only the pulse
trapped beneath the wrist.


"I'm sorry I missed you being alive."
I apologise for my presence now.


"Aye, aye...it's no great shakes being dead!"
he grins.


I stung
by the nettles at my feet.


He offers me a dock leaf.
"I've kept an eye open for you


since you were born."
he smiles with his eyes.


"Wondering when you were
going to come and see me!"


I look away.
A lark takes to the skies.


"Took your time to be
a poet...that opener of doors!"


Another time opens in my mind and
we pass through the ages


that come and go
separate us.


We the living
and the dead.


"Let's go down to the river
see if it's still there!"


Still the same old joke.
I let the river run by my hand.


He sings for me.
It's always Carrigdhoun.

Here, the river here
and in the song

the one and the same
I joining his singing.

"And I’m alone, for he is gone,
My hawk is flown, ochón, mo chroí!"