Bye the Bye

It was months after she had gone
before he could really take in everything she had done

and he got to thinking of all those things and what he might say
if he had one more day.

Of how she replaced the bird every time it died
and gave it everlasting life, in his name so that he never cried,

worked a nit comb from another world saying ‘Don’t be a big girl’
then flicked him a quiff and Bill Haley baby curl

and never thought it absurd
to tell off the curb

when he fell
or how her eyes would well

in that momentary pause before he cried
and once took her high heel to him when he lied.

Watched him moonwalk in white socks
on the Lino whilst she did the pots

and cooked the books to keep him in sticker money,
somehow made the breadline taste like honey

and of all the hours she spent
and just what it meant.

Of how she remained a widow
traced the outline of a ghost on her empty pillow

and nearly almost cried
when the neighbours sighed

‘he looks like his Grandad’
and brought him very fad

gave him the earth and emptied her purse
for better and for worse.

Let him stay up past the watershed
then carried him to his bed,

climbed in with him until he dropped off
and how she never measured the cost

to her own heart
and played the part

every day, every day
and how sometimes he would say

‘I don’t want the lads seeing you taking me in’
and how she would keep her distance, as to not embarrass him.

Or ever call his name out in the street
and how he would dance on the tops of her feet.

How she held him in all those ageless places
putting love through its paces

and how every day she must have gone through it
but when it came to it

he couldn’t find the words to say
exactly what he wanted to say

or summon a final goodbye.
Could she see in the silence of my eyes?

All of the hours that she had spent
and just exactly what it meant.