In Memory of Your Father

In Memoriam Con O'Connor, the late father of my partner.

As we rushed home 
By rail and Ryanair, 
Snow lay still across his gracious province 
Reflecting sorrowful light of that day.

Despite the train’s speed, 
I sat, motionless, letting 
The news seep into my skin 
Like a tattoo - painful permanence.

Once, now long ago, he and I 
Played a game of wintry war; 
He’d pretend I was your imaginary friend 
Yet it was I who’d see through him,

To notice a thaw begin, 
And then, after his fall, 
He rose, hand out to shake mine, 
With golden words: “You’re very welcome.”

Afterwards, I’d come to cherish 
Sitting for dinner, as he recited 
A poem in Irish from his schooldays 
Much to the bewilderment of the rest

But that was his olive branch; 
By speaking the tongue of 
His childhood, my heart, 
A bridge was built, breaking bread.

I see no coincidence, but a sweet destiny, 
That he shared his name with my grandfather; 
Both I looked up to, more than they knew, 
Of both, I wish I had known more.

-

November 2, 2018