Once Poem by Oisin Vink

I am happy here,
With my worn out clothes,
And a packet of cigarettes-
That papered gold.

For I cannot leave this room,
Sell myself to the crowd
And find joy in walking the line –
Trying to think the rain is somewhat romanticised.

I may be soaked,
I may be falling to my knees,
None the less
I still carry you on:

Little bronze pieces.
A wish,
A dash upon the water,
Or whatever these rain drops mean.

Carry me, carry me onward
Through this misted window,
This dirtied frame
Which I have always looked to.

A hope,
A love,
Or a longing.
A wish to recover you,
That never did pass through.

Fall back now my child,
Amidst this watery morning dew-
Lay down your coins and
Pay your due.

The river watches over you.