The sun overachieved
when she provided light, warmth, direction, security and reassurance
to the solar system.
The moon overachieved
when it reflected, drew tides, cast shadows and fed poets
The stars overachieved
when they gave Hollywood a reputation, grains of sand a run for their money,
and inspired the search for Graham’s number.
There’s a woman with blond hair, tall, blue eyes, imagination of a harlequin,
and an inclination to call herself
People who have no imagination
‘Twas wet outside the RDS in Ballsbridge,
under the bus shelter there was light against dark outside.
It wasn’t that I had no raincoat
(I’d saved money on showers)
nor the 2,016 strides to the Summit pub
– it was strangers-in-want that held my attention,
the black and the white
Mozambique and Mill Street,
Marrabenta and Riverdance.
They were talking in pauses
and the back of her hand brushed his sleeve.
I bet neither of them remembers
the advertising placed by Adshel.
I was the only eavesdropper
with tickling drops of Irish moisture
massaging my humour.
You might well say there are “people who have no imagination”
but certainly they weren’t waiting for a lift.