A Matter of Time
St. Vincent’s delights in cashmere
sweaters and Jimmy Choo boots-
your niece’s eyes sparkle like the ring.
You want to talk wood-
mahogany or oak?
I want to talk metal-
the cold steel of a Kukri.
Shards of broken glass
sweep towards the pier.
The season’s dank breath
sweetens ambitious seedlings
in the Jiffy greenhouse.
Basil, peppers, onions will taste
bitter as chicory come summer.
Geese return as you prepare to leave.
I search for words for you to take along
but find the dictionary sealed shut
with marmalade glue and spilt Arabica.
The cat will refuse to eat-
she always does when you go away.
Unlike last year, the pompous
hibiscus will rot. The sprinklers
are unpredictable when left to their own devices.
Blackbirds will again tunnel
their way inside the dryer vent,
before being evicted into middle-spring
by a landlord who insists on rent-paying tenants.
The roses will blush embarrassment-
for reminding me of your silhouette
bending in the fading light.
Adamant to live in the country-
this house denied home status
but befitting a four-page spread
in Architectural Digest.
You slipped between rooms
while I entertained moguls
after hours and on weekends.
Soon the smell of manure
will saturate the air.
I will return to a city
where steel will grow-
a backbone for urban decay.
Where melancholy can be
buried beneath slabs-
of freshly poured concrete.
Theresa Donnelly is an Irish/Canadian poet who spends her time between Waterville, Co. Kerry and Brooklin, Ontario. Her poetry has been published in the Brooklin Town Crier, Surfacing Magazine, The Copperfield Review, Beret Days Press, Red Claw Press, Ink Bottle Press and The Caterpillar Magazine. She is the author of two poetry books ‘Moon Witch and Other Scary Poems (juvenile) and Recurrence of Blue. She is a member of The Ontario Poetry Society and a founding member of The Brooklin Poetry Society.
For more information visit www.theresadonnelly.com