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Closer

Closer

When will it be

that she sees

the shock of the old?

When will she stop in her tracks,

stop her breath,

and take charge of my feelings,

so that I’m not hurt by more

than the passing of time?

No time soon.

 

She marauds over me

like terrain to be conquered.

My arms are limbs to swing from,

my legs and back juts and jags

of rock and granite to be scaled

and hammered. My head

a peak to stand atop

to command her domain.

She sets her feet on me

trusting the ground won’t give way.

 

There is no discussion or greeting,

no approach, no preamble –

I am a cliff face up which to scramble.

Ageless and eternal, forever there,

how could I not repay the compliment

by standing tall as the sky,

like a caveman trying to reach the sun.

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Lynne Foster Fitzgerald
Lynne Foster Fitzgerald
4 years ago

beautiful , more poetry please Dara. love to the 3 of you on these strange throwback timed. xxLynne

Helen
Helen
Reply to  Lynne Foster Fitzgerald
4 years ago

I enjoyed your poem. Lovely scene of child and father at play.
Hope you are all keeping well and washing hands during this unfamiliar period. x

Gavin
Gavin
4 years ago

Thank you for your thoughts Dara, Always good to read them

Tania
Tania
4 years ago

Beautiful Dara, love your words. It’s all a season, look after yourselves xx

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