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racing abandoned

Ormeau Bridge


watching wild geese flying
down the lagan to the
lough and open sea

standing on the ormeau
bridge at four o clock
on a friday afternoon

walking home in an exarmy
greatcoat unbuttoned to bitterwind
and trying to light a cigarette
though match after match
blowsout



bethanne ferguson


                                         Botanic Gardens

reasons fade for falling
in and out of love and
you and i remain
with different memories
going on to learn new ways
of knowing other people

but this much at least
stays with me fondly
sitting with you in the
botanic gardens thinking
be cool and you saying
do you always kiss
with your eyes open
so i close them



coming up in the world


hey baby cool lady
in sky blue full length
dress fair hair piled
high and tear drop
ear rings flashing i
used to know you
dancing in betty staffs
once living in fitzroy
with a bus conductor




seven card stud

the dealer - old
man - cuts the
deck
        rippling corners
push and bend
        lets the cards
fall lightly
        together

seven times round
onehanded
        close
to the table
        turn of the
wrist - flicked
from the forefinger
        two down
four up the
last
        down



uncertain futures

reindeer ready
on the redroof
tops of a faraway
city to come and
carry you somewhere i
dont know where youll
know when you get there
and can write to
say how it is and maybe
even visit if you
get bored now and then
but its solong tanya
lee just say goodbye
and remember me

when the snow melts
and the treeline
shows green again
behind the white hills



negativity

morning turning blue
and white somersaults
through clear skies
tumbles the early birds

and leaves us naked
knowing only this that
i am and you are
nothing more


autumnmoon

behind you the
morning slowly
unfolds
til its open full
and the sun is
and you are
reflected in shopwindows
walking waiting
for the cool and crazy-
touch of late rain


the factory whistle

high
clear
sharp as the
wind in
november

the factory
whistle at
half past four
on a friday
afternoon

frightens
the flocks
of gulls
and pigeons

from the
roofs of
the citycentre
stores


release

words
like cigarettesmoke
fading
like a pane of glass
shattering
and the black and white
cat on the doorstep
scattering
in a brief moment
as the hall light
turns on

                                                                     Poems part three