So if we like something we fear may own us
and if we like someone we fear may control us
we encourage bleak abstinence, discourage romance
with hearts petrified by the ghost of a chance.
Oh that I should be so kind
to those who’re close to me
as I am kind to strangers on the street.
But there are those whose very presence
induces a fond remembrance
of their erstwhile absence.
And the dead my friend,
though all too often defended
are nonetheless seldom offended.
Remember: just for a season dust is mud
and man was made of clay.
In that moment of forgetting you were sought,
in this garden. Once.
How long have we been here?
Are you the one?
Is this all real?
The rain still falls softly.
An owl still haunts this small Welsh wood.
I see a face and know a kiss
once tasted is a kiss.
Mike McNamara was born in Ireland but lives in South Wales, UK. He had his Selected Poems ‘Overhearing The Incoherent’ published by Grevatt and Grevatt in 1997. He is a singer and published songwriter. His poetry has been read on radio and published in dozens of mags. from Acumen, The Atlanta Review, Orbis, International Times, October Hill and The New Welsh Review to Tears in the Fence, etc. Mike also had a selection of poems published in The Pterodactyl’s Wing (Parthian). His ebook This Transmission was published in Oct. 2019 by The Argotist Online. His print book Dialling A Starless Past was published by Arenig Press in December 2019. His new collection Loose Canon was published this month with Subterranean Blue Poetry based in Montreal, Canada.