Wednesday 24 May 2017

Tender

And tender also to the thoughts returning

Unbidden in the night,

Old blames, old shames, old flames re-burning

Time despite.

Remember that a lot you squirm for now

Was really caused

By leaping into things feet first.

If you had paused,

Considering like others every consequence,

There would be less,

But less of you as well for what it's worth, purblind

Enthusiast.

Then tender anyway to him, this one-time self,

Hard to defend,

As you learn lessons still unlearned

Towards the end.

Anthony Cronin

(From The Fall, new poems by Anthony Cronin, to be published by New Island next month)

Sunday Independent

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