are caught in the fork of memory
my head echoes them
‘sugar ally watter’
and your ‘gi’ us a piece and jeely ma’
you in tacky boots
striking sparks from the granite hill.
your little auntie
left you three things
mox is catching don’t make that face
swivel that eyeball round like a beacon
see what thought did
and the third one ….. I have forgotten.
If I asked you it would mean unwinding
the brambles unsticking the thorn
setting your throat free sparks illuminating
our freefall as we slid together
down that hill
sideways into the wind.