Happy Anniversary. Poem by Brendan McCallum

not healthy they said, morbid even,
going back there every year,
I disagreed, not morbid at all,
more a comforting ritual, I said,

my heart still pounds with thoughts
of that day and adrenalin chases
through my every tube, my nostrils flare
as I taste the air, retrieving every sliver
of each glorious second

and with some accuracy
I recall, as you ragged over granite
and slate, thud following crack
following thud, and you
getting smaller all the while,

observing from afar I watched
as you performed your final
cartwheel, my applause, silence,
for hours I watched as bird and bottle
befriended you, I was never keen
on your choice of company,

I treasure the memory of our
final touch, when I released my grip
and with some irony set you free,
you fell slowly (initially)
and those last words
‘I’ll do anything you want’
oh….. and you did,

you said,
I’d never get away with it,
well….
I guess that was just another lie.


BG