2011…

preparing Sandie Craigie’s poems for publication

typing the words

ever so slowly

her Edinbury dialect

and spelling

coming uneasy

to wasted fingers

and west coast brain

___

but in my head

I hear her voice

and see her clearly

rocking to the rhythm

of these potent lines

that make me weep

and laugh in turn

___

seven long years gone

and still my eyes

seep torrid tears

___

the fear

the horror

the love

___

no more than

memory now

___

the pain in my gut

a sharp reminder

of what is lost

paper hat man

when it begins to wear out

he will make a new one

sometimes it’s a black and

white newsprint affair

all those stories on his head

both sad and bad

with the odd humorous

or human interest tale

snuck in to lighten the load

___

sometimes it’s a glossy

magazine page

colourful and terribly chic

like today’s model

sporting fragments of models

stiletto heels, sleek hair

some elegant clothes and

half a muscular torso

tucked into numerous folds

___

but always the same design

a neat little pillbox of a hat

above the unshaven face of

the local roofer who laughs a lot

tells jokes and funny stories

and is just a wee bit crazy

from too much sun

up there on the rooftops

day after day after day

___

Crassie, the paper hat man

an eccentric and welcome

addition to our village life

Petar

it was a hard existence

lonely and full of pain

and now that it is over

who will remember?

___

Petar, it took a while

to get to know you

and I wish that we

could have shared more

conversation, communication

now it is too  late

but I, for one, will not forget

and bid you a fond farewell

___

this cold and cruel world

is no place for one like you

***

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