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New Poetry, Fiction, Essays

3 poems by Alan Halford

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Alan Halford was born in Dublin, Ireland. The Memory Bone was his was his first collection of work. (2016) Poems have appeared in The Blue Max Review (Rebel Poetry) Fathers and what must be said (Rebel Poetry) The Galway Review Lakeview International Journal of Literature and Arts (2013/2015)
Madswirl.com (USA) https://www.facebook.com/AlanHalfordPoetry/

 

 

 

In memory of J.H. 1974.

Cry Again.

 

Somewhere
between the tears and dawn
I realise he had gone
And in my lonely state
Could hear my mother’s cry and wait!
A pause, and cry again.

This boy would look to rain and mist
And cry his heart for a tender kiss.
The man that gave these eyes so clear
Lay close to touch and yet not here.

Bigger than the box laid in
Deaf to tears on fragile skin
Away from the pain we all drowned in
A cry, a pause and cry again.

 

 

7 Phoenix Street

 

I stand in the room where my father was born
On the centenary of his birth. For sale and bare.
So very tiny. Boards that creak the years,
In dust that dried off tears
Leave only ghosts in their trail.

Struggling to hear the first cry,
My grandfather at the foot of narrow stairs
Listened and hushed the rest.
Struggling also, Mrs Ward from next door
Doing what she had always done
Her moment too!
She had delivered the street after all.

All done! A cry shrilled through the air;
Laying bare a right to 1913 and me,
Echoing over rooftops and beyond
Over fields and back to Bective
Sharing a voice with black birds
A million miles from here.

The day we are all born
Phoenix Street, thin walls and coal fires,
Prayers in the front room for the safe journey

 

 

Hospice

 

She placed it down-
Something you can leave behind she thought, but wouldn’t say
A green plant in a tub rested next to the bed
A lead laden hand stretched to touch its broken soil
Small thing in the way of things and wondered why.

She thought-
New white walls, prepare you best for heaven
While darkness, only lingers in the mind
Time the only fight in our possession
Death the only kindness left behind..

She saw-
A fanlight directs the sun across his sad face
The way they said it would the day he came
Hands grasped to find hers beneath the table
And tangled like a vine around the veins

She felt-
A twinge of loneliness that evening in the soft light
Drank a glass of wine alone in bed
Tears filled up her glass in lone procession
Regrets for years when things were never said.

She thought-
New white walls, prepare you best for heaven
While darkness, only lingers in the mind
Time the only fight in our possession
Death the only kindness left behind.

 

 

 

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