It's National Poetry Day today and so I have been trying to write a poem.
With poetry, as with most things, you have to remember that it's the thought that counts.
For Shan: Ffarwel Justin
So many people cried. I wish there had been
some magical material, strong but very fine, spun
from gold or some other kind of precious metal, that
I could have held up to their eyes, to collect the
tears and thread them all together in a line, like
diamonds or crystals, but more real and alive.
It happens in nature, after the rain falls and
raindrops collect on the washing line.
When the sunshine comes, if I have washing to dry,
I'll walk into the garden and shake the washing line,
and watch the raindrops fly. But I'd have tried
to keep the tears this time; those little drops
of sadness, preserved in brine. You could wrap them
round your wrist, and wear them like
those rubber bands that advertise a cause that
people support or admire. Or else you could
put them on a long loop around your neck, so they'd lie
close to your heart and brush against your skin every time
you move, a waterfall of tiny reminders;
millions of memories represented by a
necklace of teardrops. Because we were all
thinking about Justin, and the good times, and the way
he was, and the way you were together, as we cried.