For Shaun

For Shaun

For Shaun

 

The first time you heard about it, the story was

he’d done it in an abandoned shack somewhere,

then later, in a garage. You saw the logic

in that. You saw the load-bearing possibilities

in its wooden beams. There was a movement

of things you could neither hold onto nor

let go of. Several years had passed in any case,

and your paths – never running exactly in parallel –

had diverged even beyond your imagination.

Yet at least they had once crossed, and you

find you instinctively remember him the other way.

His gloved fists, pendulums at the end of

cigarette-coloured arms, lie steady beside his

red trunks. The twin wells of his nostrils seethe,

dark curls bobbing above the bridge of his nose

as he enters the ring, with its examining lights,

looking like he has a fighting chance for once.

 

first published in Wildflower Muse, 2016

Advertisements

One thought on “For Shaun

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s