In response to our In From The Cold callout for creative wintry submissions, we’re very pleased to publish a poem from writer and teacher Ian O’Brien.
He is too gone by the time he comes crawling in
in huffs between the sheets to me,
all hiccupped with half kisses and sleep,
far too gone to hear me tut.
I lean in, like I used to,
his heavy booze-breathed I love yous
sinking, singing. I watch him,
catch him in the early hours talking,
stitch it together in breaths.
Should’ve been there tonight, he says.
What a night,
the power was out
but we sang all night,
all the old gang in the candlelight.
Young Sam on leave and
Irene’s lad and
Fitz but before the accident
and Rose’s girl came running in
all covered in snow
and you’d never know
and we had to laugh, we
They asked after you
should’ve been there.
I hold his hand, outstretched
by the bed.
He half opens his eyes,
for a second smiles
at my photograph.
More from First Draft
Submit your own wintry story, poem, song or artwork for our In From The Cold callout before the end of January, and we’ll publish it on our blog
Join us for our next event, After Dark, on Monday 15 February