Back To Limerick
by Belinda Roddie
I miss you, Shannon - your cold kisses
on rainy days made my steps lighter
even in the deluge. You cast a smile
my way as I sat in a bar on the quay,
indulging in a pint, or two, or three.
You always scurried past me as
the sun began to set behind the clouds.
Men in black peacoats laughed over
Guinness and cigarettes. Girls wore
short skirts and dark tights and tried on
lipstick redder than their boyfriends' hair.
University students carried hurleys
and talked about the latest rugby game.
I miss you, Shannon - you were always
good to me, though I was not always attentive
to you. The green trimmings around you suit
your shape and curves. Your sisters Liffey and Lee
are beautiful, too, while Corrib is your protective
brother from afar, but I knew you the best
of all. And I know that, if I ever could come back,
you'd still recognize my face as I peered into you,
even if six or seven years had floated by.