Through thickening weed,
Reflected sky carp pulse
As my line begins to drift,
Tremor, the reel clicks back
To another afternoon,
Eyes closed, her breathing
Eased to whispering: at that
Moment, her touch
A veil of sunlight all around me,
Swifts hook the sky and a crying child
Is picked up, soothed and held.
Kevin Patrick McCann
Illustration Nick Victor
A new book of poems