The Bearhug
Click the icon above to listen to this audio poem.
Even this freckle testifies to the strength
of second thoughts. My family
is a poem, the clear expression of
mixed feelings, and your emergent
system at five years old fires
like the shoal of neon tetra kept
in the depths of a ten gallon
darkness. As for infinity, it’s there,
When it comes at me in the mirror with its meaning ramping up until it passes and lowers in pitch, I’m on the bit of the M1 where it bisects the Ring of Gullion and I switch lanes, and let my right foot alleviate its weight on the accelerator of the Focus, and the ambulance is faster, and the shift in its report an effect of the change in the wave’s frequency and length on the observer, who is, in this case, me, heading up to Newry hospice off the redeye, and I lag and have to have the window down for brisk air.