Herbert Park Cherry Blossoms Poem by Bernard Kennedy

All poets write about their father,
and poetry is surely memory as it speaks
from the future of the event. I park my car
outside the house on Morehampton Road where
my mother grew up. Lately on this busy
road, suburban street, avenue,
it is the only space, a little way
from the shop. Serendipity, coincidence,
unconscious desire?
Chocolates, cheeses, puddings and wines,
the temptations at donnybrook fair.

I place my shopping in the boot and cross
to Herbert Park.
An avenue of cherry blossom this bright spring day-
children running with mammy and daddy,
the retired barrister on the park bench
contemplates his brief life awaiting sentence,
the young doctor, solicitor beginning,
as they stroll past tulips,
lovers hand in hand, tennis reappears,
and some with tablet sit, looking,
where her majesty opened the exhibition,
while feeding ducks, others contemplate.

In her young life did she stroll here too?