It is four ten a.m.
on the morning after your funeral
and a litany of birds
broadcast a requiem of grace notes
over the mourning town
as I try to negotiate
a straight line
between the Square and Charles Street.
Finally finding the right angle to the corner
I meet your pensive gaze
from a photograph in Landys’ window
and understand
why you once barred me
for not drinking,
while Mary,who held the keys
said softly
‘Don’t worry , you’ll be alright tomorrow’
©By Pauline Fayne
(from I’m Fine Really, Stonebridge Publications 2005)
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