To Martin - by
Times
/ In the quiet and dusk of
/ Night, I have wakened
/ Inside a dream of neutral languor,
/ Confessing (with a smile) that my years
/ Point…
fathers
At My Father’s Funeral - by
Didn’t we think, for a moment,
of crushing his feet
so he couldn’t return to the house
at Halloween?
A Song for My Father - by
Against the yam-vine quiet of the garden / a nightingale stirred with my father: the lift / and fall of…
La Casa - by
a mia padre
/
/ Esta es la casa. Las ventanas abiertas
/ dejan caer la luz y una frágil
/ penumbra se esconde en los rincones.
/ Suaves…
Wednesday afternoon - by
my father is “having fun”
cleaning the floor
he uses the plugged-in sink as a bucket
wears rags on his feet
and shimmies to a cleaning beat
In the Garden - by
i.m. my father
/
/ While I was shawling the strawberries
/ with fine green netting, you told me
/ about the cow that swam to the…
To Alexander Graham - by
Lying asleep walking
/ Last night I met my father
/ Who seemed pleased to see me.
/ He wanted to speak. I saw
/ His mouth…
Father and the Silver Salver - by
As was his custom at
/ approx. 9a.m. he returned
/ from the yard for coffee,
/
/ would plant his cap on the
/ silver salver on the…
The Curtain - by
Half way up the stairs
/ Is the tall curtain.
/ We noticed it there
/ After the unfinished tale.
/
/ My father came home,
/ His clothes sea-wet,
/ His breath…
The Eye in the Hand - by
At the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh
/
/ My only talent lay in these.
/ My father rubbed his hands together,
/ stared as though…
air an fhàinne, fada bho ‘shàbaid’ - by
rovaniemi, suomi, am faoilleach, 1998
/
/ mac is athair
/ dol tarsuing na h-aibhne gil
/ o bhruach gu bruach
/ san tìr a tuath
/
/ a coiseachd bàrr an…
Henvendelsen - by
Verden forklarer seg som skritt i grusen, sollys,
/ en kvinne gjenkjenner faren sin (en berøring
/ og litt varm pust, savn uendra gjennom…