Section 2 ~ Issue 22cAfric McGlinchey
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AFRIC MCGLINCHEY                                            



S unsized 2215mall dramas of rain,

ribboning swathes,

like a woman’s sorrows multiplying.

Each soaking night, her heart in an uproar,

remembering his hands gesturing,

like a mathematician’s in skilled divisions.

Her mind moves direction, like rain shifting west.

She thinks of the mouth she kissed,

the mudflat drawl, so profane, enticing.

Recurring images, Good Friday guilt,

anguish toppling, weekly,

into her handkerchief pocket.


She doesn’t garden but sits on the fierce rough steps.

In the fields, horses grazing, black and white.

From recesses, her secret love shimmers recognition.


The sofa cushion’s body language.

She keeps the part of him that loved to dance,

his langorous arms, as she casually gave her virginity.

How near she is, in the darkened day.

The rain sees it all,

one flight after another striking the rock.

Cats’ eye stars, sleep-in hours.

She wonders if, during the weather,

he still remembers.  

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