August

We live with the loss of Aoife in an elegiac way now, which is occasionally painful, but has mostly gentle reminders of her brilliant life with us. This is that time of year again, her anniversary, and so, I have written yet another Aoife piece to catch the sense of it all, and to help us remember. I can feel myself tear up as I write and that, strangely, is comforting. Enjoy.

You would have been forty four this year
Instead you are a permanent twenty six

Your bench has been revarnished by Parks staff
renewed, polished, positioned for the annual

You move through our dreams, a recurring returnee
or present yourself through a trigger of sound or sight

catch us offside or give a painful jab
as if to remind, orbiting in parallel, gone but not

The space here is crowded but never encroaches
that gape, your place, ever there, between the cracks

Peter Clarke