Cathy

Friday night we both arrived down in Cork.
From Dublin and Kerry, separately. Unannounced.
Catching up on long-time-no-see friends.

Do you remember that awful woman?
The one who wanted me to take her home, but
scared the living daylights out of me.
You saved me then
and came with me instead.

I remember now how you danced that night,
knowing I could picture you in your underwear.
And coming home under the full Scorpion moon
you howled idiotically all the way,
and because I loved you, I wasn't embarrassed.
You pointed out your favourite star and told me
how your funeral should be ordered.

Monday morning parting. Until the next time.
Making plans for your trip to Kerry,
your Dublin jokes about needing wellies.
I got the card with the baby on it -
fancying me pregnant by your lust.

I wrote back sending you the first instalment
of a story you asked me to write.
We thought we'd meet in Galway, but
you stayed home to work. And then you were killed.
How did that happen?

(c) Liz Willows 2000