Davoren Hanna

A poem for one of Ireland’s greatest poets and, once, my friend

 

the wheels of his wheelchair squeak along my femur

he taught me

how words are an upturned collar against it all

 

he planted shame

behind my ear when I let him go

                before he went

 

my body shared

my thoughts borrowed

and words, these little, late words

broken piano keys on the ocean floor