Now this May evening is quietly breathing
around us; your tobacco smoke swirls
in the stillness and I remember my lost father.
The wide street outside is silent.
Houses, shops and church are shuttered
and a light rain drifts in from farms and quiet fields.
The story begins: we are attentive to one another
knowing what we already know will be transformed
as a baby on its way transforms the young mother.
The evening darkens. The words we share lift clearly.
Inside our glasses are cooling on a low table.
In firelight we yearn for something nameless,
freely given as trees, meadows and frail bluebells.
I stand at the window. The garden’s lunar shadows
fall on white stone and juniper, and I know
my stillness is part of yours in the walled garden.
Music: Love Thee Dearest. From the CD "The Long Light of the Land: Selected Poems by Joan McBreen". Produced by Ernest Lyon Productions.
Copyright Joan McBreen 2003
