The Saturday Poem: At Solstice

for Michael Longley

The band has left and given you the stage.
Three guitars and a whole drumkit idle
become, for all the world, a metaphor –
the means of music-making everywhere
and you, making music out of thin air.

Even the in-breath is significant
as you speak into the darkness, Michael,
without backing or accompaniment,
your free hand moving as if conducting.
I touched it after. It was light as a wing.

Navan, August 26th, 2017