If Clouds Could See the Cracks in Stones
Watching the Oklahoma sunset, Donald
writes I Love Your Ghost and his heart
skips a beat until it reaches the Leachkin
to sit by the cradle stone where he lets
his words escape. He is travelling light
as dandelion clocks, finds himself in odd
unfamiliar places sipping whisky while
his heart, often out of kilter, finds its
touchstone in the North. This is like
the day you left, he thinks, but the words
are out there, away with the breeze. He searches
his pockets for a knife, a scrap of paper,
an answer to a question never asked.
From the Great Book of Distances
Donald tells me he is afraid
of leaving and having left
wakes in the night, thinking
of trees and roads and ghosts.
He wants to telephone, to know
we are ok but trees have no
numbers, roads are circular
and the ghosts do not reply.
So he gets up, puts the kettle on,
remembers Dan and his music,
wonders why the distance between
here and there is never less.
i.m.of Dan 1980-2007
About the Author:
Eileen Carney Hulme lives in the north east of Scotland. She has three full collections published as well as having many poems published in anthologies, poetry magazines and online poetry websites. She has won or been placed in a number of poetry competitions. More info can be found on her author page at Indigo Dreams Publishing https://www.indigodreams.co.uk/ech-tsm/4589983025
