You wake

later, sleepy

and slightly


and slope about

with puzzled frown

finding paper, pen,

envelope, stamp:

an exhausting list

of wishes

before even a

slurp of coffee

or a kiss.



and a yielding

kind of pride

when the final

thing is flourished

to girls

more intent on

Conor Barrying

their crunchy nut

cornflaked milk

than cheering on

your early triumphs.


So then you turn to me

seeking a smile,

some sign of

high regard

but I mutter,



‘You’ve not posted it yet.’


You nod slowly.

You know there are

challenges ahead.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s