I.
Stones within a dry stone wall
Ride out each flexing of the clay
When her father’s mentioned
The tense is past: an arc described
Between this absence and his laugh.
Yet stones within a dry stone wall
Ride out each flexing of the clay
A green glass pendulum rooted
In her fist, Electra at the party’s
Edge, self-menace scoring gutters
Through her wrist.
And still stones within a dry stone wall
Ride out each flexing of the clay
II.
On the high rise balcony, she worries
The hem of her dress: up here the city’s
A weft and weave of smoke: now it’s
No longer our little secret, no fingering
Caress: from here sky below she will
Step out amber choirs into memory
Fill her head and at the end, no regrets.
Kevin Patrick McCann
Photo Nick Victor
From Still Pondering https://www.amazon.co.uk/Still-Pondering-Kevin-Patrick-McCann/dp/1788768671/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Patrick+McCann+Still+Pondering&qid=1573366856&sr=8-1