Pól Ó Lorcáin
Paul Larkin

Chroniclers are privileged to enter where they list, to come and go through keyholes, to ride upon the wind, to overcome in their soarings up and down, all obstacles of distance, time and place.
Charles Dickens - Barnaby Rudge, Chapter The Ninth

Tears For Fears

For Eoghan John Shéimí

I said

Tá cumha orm go tobann agus sibh ag imeacht ó thuaidh gan mé
Now, I feel lonely and you all heading North without me

He said

Mise fosta - Me too

And when his eyes filled
a terror passed over me
knowing intimately
what it is

Teetering on the perennial precipice
of sheer feeling

the freefall panic

He walked towards me wanting me to fix his superhero gloves

Celtic gaze of father and son

Who needs words, poems,
for these ancient memories?

We are utter empathy

Ni bheith aon scéal agam nó bia deas tráthnóna
No story for me, nor the food I like tonight

He stepped into my light

The sun shock of his hair
his indomitable head
gave me strength
Tá mo lámh ort I said

My hand is over you

He crushed my fleck of fear
with his dark lashes
then shook my hand
like a man

@ Paul Larkin
An Cháisc/Easter 2011


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