THE MEMORY OF MARMALADE
(For Michael Donaghy 1954 – 2004)


ah howya Michael
strange to be meeting ya
off the coast of Casablanca

now don’t say it –
that would be too
corny altogether

‘At least we’ll
always have
Haringey!’

ah ye devil ya,
ya said it
didn’t ya

‘well I heard ya
reading my poems
to your wife

so I thought
I’d just drop in
like

for an auld chat
not let a little thing
like death come between us’

a moment
as it happens
where I was

only a second
from falling off
the edge of the world

into that great
wide nothingness
that awaits all of us

sometime or another
and all my mind
had to offer me

was this tiny fragment
my first memory of
marmalade of all things

as if it were
the most precious
moment ever

sun bursting
through marmalade
held forever

on the edge
of a shining
silver knife

so beautiful
like a tiny jewel
that the mind could taste

before
the body
could

and the lovely
slice of a smile
that was my father

and if this was
to be my dying
this would be the last

thing seen
and sure if it was
wouldn’t it be

a great memory
to go out
on

and you Michael  
I remember you
whipping out

a penny whistle
where it was hiding
in an inside pocket

playing something
unknown
to me

telling me
it didn’t have
a name as yet

maybe the dance
of the fingers but
that could change

the next time
you played always
a new beginning

now you smile
it’s become
the memory of marmalade

don’t forget
put my father’s smile
in it will ya

‘I will surely’
he smiled,
as the ship turned

towards an horizon
I couldn’t
recognise

and the deck quoits
went quiet
and I lost my shadow

and indeed
that was a good thought
to go out on

‘Dónall auld fella
you’re getting your quoits
and shuffleboard mixed up 

you’d better go on living
ya’ave still got a lot
to learn’

and the marmalade
dances as Michael
plays it into being

and my father
and I
oh we’re smiling