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Ger’s Poem

7th of April ’21 - by Ger Furlong

I met Tim Cullen in my dream this morning,
he was the age he would be now
and he was helping an elderly man to walk,
supporting his frail frame around a park
for a morning stroll.

He gave me the warmest hello,
like I was 4 years old and the world
was full of promise and everything was innocent.
I hadn't seen him in 15 years,
probably another 12 years before that.

His voice was so familiar.
The feeling that rose in me receiving this greeting,
it was like arriving home, after a long weekend away,
knowing all was in its place,
the scent of the neighbours lavender
and his lovely dulcet tone.
He could have read the phone book to me then
and I would have been riveted, entertained and stilled all at once.