At the end of the day,
We change direction ,
Turn towards woods in lingering light.
The water shivers for our touch but we refuse to swim
For fear of never getting warm again.
Your grandmother’s photo is pinned
to supporting oak beams-
disappointing me,
she doesn’t look a bit like you-
healthy, tanned- younger there
younger than me,
Wearing a golden, yellow sash beneath a turning maple tree.
You’re busy cracking eggs
I am busy moving, quietly in love,
through your childhood summers.
My eyes steal over dog-eared books
From lost rainy days,
Battered board games
You and your brothers played,
my fugitive fingers trace you
in the yearly biro marks
Upon the larch wood door
The black marble elephant with the chipped trunk,
seems precious,
I hold it. I’ll hold on.
Till morning comes
When you’ll lead me back
Out of the woods
to pick up the road
We had abandoned
Kayleigh O'Reilly 