We met on and off over the years.
At that time in my life, my work was just words . No matter who said they liked it .
When Julia asked if she could take my work home . I was pleased . Nothing more .
She took the time to post it back to me with advice on where to send it to .
Coming from her, it was like warm gravy on a plate . Still I did nothing . But the last line of her letter stayed with me, it was: ‘ You must do something with Patsy. ‘
Fine words, I thought . All I could see was kind words from a kind person.
So Patsy lay at home doing nothing, because I did nothing.
We sort of met some months later across another crowded room. Neither knowing the other would be there .
So many heads . So many people. But she waved over to me . I thought at first she was waving to someone else . She kept waving only now she made sure I could see her . Then a clearing in the crowd and we both waved and laughed . Never got to speak . We didn’t know we would never see each other again.
That smile, that wave was all the push I needed .
I went home and put Patsy into an A 4 , and put him on a Plane to Dublin where he was born.
He is still delighting the readers of Ireland’s Eye.
The wave is gone
But I will remember you
long, long .
My copy of Apology for Absence
by Julia Darling, was brought back by Lucy.
She had borrowed the poems
to be companions in Seville.
And, although Julia was only present in her poems,
I still think she went to Seville
with her colourful carpet bag.
Julia, that is.
The night of the return
Julia was produced by Lucy (curly hair)
just as I was speaking to Jayne (straighter hair)
Lucy explained that Julia had been very good company
Lucy and Jayne had never previously met
and on my suggestion Lucy let Julia go away with Jayne.
Julia and I once had some fun
with some youngsters from Speke in the Liverpool area.
we got them making words out of clay,
so that they might see them more as things.
There follows, a game in Speke spirit,
in which words from each of the first 24 poems
in Apology for Absence
suggests what Julia might have had in her bag:
washing and your sheets need washing
shoes I’m that pair of uncomfortable shoes.
glitter Some moments glitter
corners or a day of corners, steps and slopes.
Brown Brown walls, the clip and gleam of hospitals
vast its shape, its vast thirsty tongue
buttons I clung to my imagination, my buttons
pads and dribbling in a stair lift, wearing pads.
sharp She’s dreaming of wardrobes, of sharp gold shoes
pullovers to take off pullovers and swirl, to get
moths bobbing, trying to catch the moths
magazines Pop Idol, magazines.
banana The main street was one long banana stall
glasses I am the woman who wears reading glasses
mirror adjusting the mirror.
forgotten You have forgotten it, that itching ache
red I am overpowered by its fragrant red roses
soap a moon-shaped slither of soap
juice new and surprised, the trees full of juice
mud tents, and whose mud is crusted on their shoes.
short These short days, when I try too hard
coat and evaporated breath, buttoned in sleep’s downy coat
trousers hold my trousers up with string, pull.
science Donate your family to science.