Poem of the week: Kiss

A new work by Ciaran O’Driscoll


That they should come together like this, all
the golden suns and rains and generations
when I had said goodbye, in her footfall
that followed me, in her lips touching mine.

Did she realise her kiss taught me what words
could not: that nobody need stay bereft?
Out of nowhere she came and afterwards,
when a decent interval had passed, she left.

That’s why my ear is trained on your footfall
which brings me back my self, its missing pith,
the gathered light and tenderness of all
that blossoms from the brush of breath on breath.

Thanked be the universe that shaped the kiss,
the feet by which I stumbled into this.

Ciaran O’Driscoll lives in Limerick and is a member of Aosdána. His most recent publication is the chapbook The Speaking Trees (SurVision)