Saturday, September 1, 2012



This is all that remains
A box of spent breath
And when the dancing stopped
You bowed and then left.

I gathered my skirts
And after you sped
Last view of your coat tails
I curtsied too late.

Your coat wasn’t caught
On a nail at the door
It could have….it should have
I’ll see you no more.

This is all that remains
A box of minced songs
And when the singing stopped
You’re gone and I long.

Maureen Walsh - September 2012

Ciao for now!


Emma said...


Caitriona said...

Really poignant and emotive - loved it!