Poetry break

Commonwealth

How odd of my wife

I thought at the time

to pluck bay leaves

to season her stews

from a tree that shades

the grave of a girl

in Kilclispeen.

Mary Dempsey

knew seventeen springs

before they laid her

into the earth,

before the bay tree

put down roots

before my mother

and father knew

fruit of the tree

of life.

Sitting at table

with wife and child

I relish the dish

and acknowledge the guest

who is part of the feast –

you’re welcome, Mary,

into my house

and you’re more than welcome

into my mouth

for this is the way

the world goes round

from the first kiss

to the baby’s milk,

from the first word

to the tongue’s last sound –

bread of communion

we taste in the mouth

is broken in commonwealth

under the ground.

by Michael Cody (via)