Cigarette Smoke Silhouettes

Steve Denehan

Spring was Ballybough

The North Strand

cycling to Bull Island

with Dessie Dunne and Jim White

spring was skipping school

skipping rocks on the bottle green sea

at Dollymount and Donabate

spring was blue skies and red hearts

you ran into it

Summer was Santry Close

marriage, sweat and a pencil

tucked behind your ear

summer was adoption and Howth Pier Sundays

walking with ice cream

running down the sides of cones

and over knuckles

you eased into it

Autumn was retirement

the end of cigarette smoke silhouettes

the surprise of finding happiness

in the garden

in pottering

autumn was a granddaughter

who arrived

to perch upon your knee

giggle at your peek-a-boos

and help you see the world again

you held onto it

Winter came on Sunday

it is walking into rooms

with no idea as to why

it is looking straight ahead

for minutes at a time

it is forgetting and forgetting

winter is the two of us

talking of the old days and the good days

until you are silent

standing up and walking slowly

aimlessly into the sunshine

at the back of the garden

for reasons unknown to both of us

winter is the slope of your shoulders

the clothes hanging loose on you

you tell me

you are ready for it