Neighbours gather, nervous laughter
Crickets sing behind the rafter
Glasses chink and teacups chatter
Words of wit and words of matter
Are lost in shadowed corners.
The Sun dips low and colours fade
A Tilley lamp brings light to shade.
A lonely fiddle lifts the gloom,
But yet no smiles pervade the room.
All present, merely mourners.
A ticket from the Cobh of Cork
‘SS Britannic’ to New York.
For Tess to find a better life
Within Manhattan’s toil and strife.
A home for hopeful travellers.
Young women shown in magazines,
With bouffant hair and tailored jeans.
Handsome men in charcoal suits
With painted ties and blue suede boots,
Show Tess, potential futures.
A battered suitcase tied with strings
Contains inside, her precious things.
A passport stamped, a sponsor’s letter
A hope that friends will not forget her.
That God will bless her wanderings.
The boy withdraws and sits apart
A stony coldness grips his heart.
For who will brush away his tears
Will wash his hair and soothe his fears?
When Tess departs next morning.
With heavy eyes and drooping head
The weary boy is put to bed.
The rosary his path to sleep
It leads him to a place so deep
That weeping does not wake him.
The walk to school, the noisy throng
He has no impulse to belong.
The glowing Sun the cobalt skies
Are painful arrows to his eyes.
He seeks the darkest shadows.