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David Noonan Mar 2017
If i wore an elastic red band taut on my wrist
And snapped it often would it help me recall
The first day that i saw you from a distant past
The only face for me in a crowded lecture hall

Or if i was to pull that old instant photograph
Sequined black dress of another graduation dance
Monkey suit, pressed shirt and paisley bow tie
Two who never believed in a need of second chance

If I retook a trip to the wild Atlantic coast
Flew a kite of a deserted evening on Lahinch beach
Standing laughing at another baltic Irish summer
Would i just feel the cold whilst you remained out of reach

Or if i dropped the needle to our favourite record
A glass of Italian red wine and Waits' Blue Valentine
Would i feel you again where so often we lay
Or just hear the Blue as it drowns all reason, all rhyme

Yet wherever i go or whatever i do
I will never be able to recapture that glory of you
They say to move on, don't you ever look back...

Maybe tomorrow those same truths fade to black
Cian Kennedy Oct 2017
I



I count the stories,

craning my neck

from a first floor vantage point

through glass walls



Blue hats match their buckets,

belts holding cloths and squeegees

and them.

A harness that protects their lives.



At least 30 stories, I think.

300 feet of glass

with a view of grey

tower blocks, a cityscape.



At the ground floor they land with a thud

Harness unlatched

A gentle nod to each other.

Ropes fall freely from high



II



In Lahinch I stand at the summit

of a 30 foot cliff face.

One hand holding my belt

The other my rope.



My harness is attached to another

who explains my next steps

But here I’m alone,

unlatched.


Legs quiver under no real weight.

A western breeze crosses my face,

beside me a plant grows through the rock,

the sound of a stream nearby that I’ll cross.



But for now I stand atop this cliff face

seeking my life experience.

Face pointed upward, I let myself down.

Ropes fall freely below.
ciankennedy.me

— The End —