Poetry Friday

by

"Aran Fireside" from "The Spirit of Ireland"

 

Today’s poem powerfully expresses a deep sense of love and loss and is almost unbearably poignant. It tells of the experience of the poet’s widowed father, who still acts as if his wife is alive, doing those little acts of love for her, like warming her slippers by the fire. 

I almost didn’t post it, as its poignancy is so heart-breaking, but then it struck me how it is also a reminder to treasure the little things that we share with our loved ones while they are still with us. It also helps us to understand the depth of loss and grief of those who are bereaved. I would love to hear what you think of the poem, so don’t forget to leave a comment. 

Long Distance II 

Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass. 

You couldn’t just drop in. You had to phone.
He’d put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime. 

He couldn’t risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he’d hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she’d just popped out to get the tea. 

I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven’t both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there’s your name
and the disconnected number I still call. 

~Tony Harrison~ 

  

Category : Poetry
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