Poem of the week: Daughter by Enda Wyley

 Poet Enda Wyley. Photograph: Matt Kavanagh

Poet Enda Wyley. Photograph: Matt Kavanagh


See me, standing at the bright
graffitied wall: U Are Alive.
And look up high to the man
leaning out his attic window.

He’s painting his sill white
for you to net on your phone.
Click. In the Iveagh Gardens,
frost is white dust on the statues.

A dog on the sunken lawn growls
at elephant bones buried below
by the zoo in nineteen twenty-two.
While further east, snow on the maze

swirls its way to the inner sundial.
I would chase you there, if I could –
find you as a small child again,
in the gaze of the boating tower,

the waterfall behind cascading
your future. A rock for every day,
for every minute that I follow you.

Enda Wyley has published six collections of poetry, most recently The Painter on his Bike (Dedalus Press, 2019)