Arts for the 21st Century

Dear Daddy, Circa April 2021

The world turned grey,

the pigeons withdrew

their morning quarrels.

 

The wild parrots

are grounded,

their feathered breasts

a shock of yellow

mottling this relentless

bed of ash.

 

Daddy,

I think about Shake Keane

and his Empire cigarettes.
I blink as the sulphur stings my eyes

and rasp hello to my neighbour as he

sweeps his porch.

 

I think about how you were swimming

in Sion Hill Bay

the last good Friday

the mountain woke.

 

I think about how, now,

I am a hundred miles away

across a cobalt sea,

the ash scratching my throat.

 

I imagine you would

shake your head and say,

“Life, eh?”
its mysterious ways and
wonders being performed.