Oct 21
WALKING FROM THE RISING SUN TO KILDARE TOWN.
I take up
my stick &
walk:
back into my past.
Planting the countryside
of my youth
with each step
the years falling away.
The young me unfolds
into being.
The flag of self unfurls
snaps into the lost moment.
My shadow strides
ahead of me
impatient with this
flesh and blood man.
My shadow stops
waits for me to
catch up
catch my breath.
He stares at me
with broken dandelion eyes
a green milk bottle top
mimics a nose
a leaf acted
as a smile.
I laugh at this me
created by chance
and happenstance
step once more
into my shadow's footsteps
let it lead the way.
A tree which had been
there since I had been three
sarcastically remarks" "Oh, is it
yer self that's...in it?"
"It is!" says I
addressing the sky
spread before me
a vast blue field.
Furze blazes
with yellow.
Horses turn to
the gallops.
The sudden thunder of hooves
jockeying with laughter.
I left here to
make something of myself.
I, then...a nervous nobody
returning now
a mere nothing
a success only at failure.
I recite Hopkins
to a straying sheep.
The sheep suspiciously
regards this poet
hitting his stride now
"Nothing is so..."
The sheep coughs.
"... beautiful as
Spring!"
I tell a passing cloud
who is in too much of a hurry.
The poet's proud words
falling by the wayside
as me-then and
the me of now
stroll down
(cane nonchalantly in hand)
memory lane.
The Future hiding just
up around the
corner.
*
Set off with my chipped ankle and on a stick forgetting how far it would be....so it was my past revisited me and came to view this hobbly old man who claimed he was once this young boy!
All it proved was that I was an auld codger who didn't know his left foot from his right! But by God I can limp a good 4 miles as well as any other auld fella.
I take up
my stick &
walk:
back into my past.
Planting the countryside
of my youth
with each step
the years falling away.
The young me unfolds
into being.
The flag of self unfurls
snaps into the lost moment.
My shadow strides
ahead of me
impatient with this
flesh and blood man.
My shadow stops
waits for me to
catch up
catch my breath.
He stares at me
with broken dandelion eyes
a green milk bottle top
mimics a nose
a leaf acted
as a smile.
I laugh at this me
created by chance
and happenstance
step once more
into my shadow's footsteps
let it lead the way.
A tree which had been
there since I had been three
sarcastically remarks" "Oh, is it
yer self that's...in it?"
"It is!" says I
addressing the sky
spread before me
a vast blue field.
Furze blazes
with yellow.
Horses turn to
the gallops.
The sudden thunder of hooves
jockeying with laughter.
I left here to
make something of myself.
I, then...a nervous nobody
returning now
a mere nothing
a success only at failure.
I recite Hopkins
to a straying sheep.
The sheep suspiciously
regards this poet
hitting his stride now
"Nothing is so..."
The sheep coughs.
"... beautiful as
Spring!"
I tell a passing cloud
who is in too much of a hurry.
The poet's proud words
falling by the wayside
as me-then and
the me of now
stroll down
(cane nonchalantly in hand)
memory lane.
The Future hiding just
up around the
corner.
*
Set off with my chipped ankle and on a stick forgetting how far it would be....so it was my past revisited me and came to view this hobbly old man who claimed he was once this young boy!
All it proved was that I was an auld codger who didn't know his left foot from his right! But by God I can limp a good 4 miles as well as any other auld fella.
