(15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

' ' ' ' ' '' ' ' ' The Instruments Of Maths(For Scarlet)

The instruments
of Maths


a protractor

by degrees

measuring an impossibility of...

a ruler

lost in the distance

both compass & divider
lie beside her

an inky chewed eraser

a packed lunch
still intact

flouresent pink - covered
in hearts and flowers

customary schoolgirl

the same name
again & again

now obsessively hidden within
now blazoned forth

in each heart
with a flourish

new mobile
(face cracked)
with new ringtone


the car
stripped of its speed

tame beside her

blood invisible
on its redness.

A sobbing escaping
the gathered crowd

like an innocent balloon
escaping the hand of a child.

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Comments (3)

Another excellent, poignant poem..... Ruthie
A life, not exactly wasted, but lost way, way too soon...and the sadness of it all. Those scattered bits and pieces, the instruments of maths...is a very painful image. Well done, my dear one, very well done. A change of pace for your usual lighthearted search for love, but from the soul as well.
Things do get away from us