(for Patsy Twomey)
Slightly impossible, as was said.
Doddering over newspapers, a rank salvation
resurrection in walkers and tartan bags.
The tarot reader supplies demand
arriving early to beat the posse
refreshing refreshiments after a fashion.
No grief taken, an encyclopedia of experience
fleeing the Opera House during its fire,
running away to the circus, a youngster’s dream.
Through the eye of the camera, a still attached
Marks & Spencers bargains assiduously hunted
enough to fill the soul of delicacy.
Information and anecdotes spring freely
never repeating a tale, someone must
record these stories for fear of extinction.
Dancing strictly in time, a dictionary
of movement, shaking heads involuntarily
never bored, actions more practical than words.
The obligatory cup of tea sinks acrimony.
Experiential details joyously shared
banter with the staff, levelly-pegged.
No conversation left undone, or bereft,
but cut-price yoghurt sweet is she,
enough to put contenders in place.
Running for the 214, in seconds inflated,
her particulars follow her diligently,
a told fortune near her heart.
Patricia Walsh was born in Mourneabbey, Co Cork. She has previously published a collection of poetry, titled Continuity Errors, in 2011 and has been published in a variety of print and online journals. She has also published a novel, titled The Quest for Lost Eire, in 2014. She now lives in Cork city.