I keep my eyes averted
Because it’s rude to stare,
Each night I sit with Mother
And read aloud Jane Eyre.

I often dream of attic rooms
Where I pace alone,
I often dream I’m paralysed
Inside a skin of stone.

I don’t recall a single Fall
Before my Daddy died
But I remember his cold funeral
And how our Pastor lied.

When I look in the mirror,
I see a stranger there
Standing close behind me,
Gently brushing my hair.




Kevin McCann
Picture Nick Victor

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