Blank page no more Frozen as significant Half hour before.
Say something, anything, Destroy the peace Prepare to walk Balscadden, Where, as far as we know he went in.
By coincidence Conor Has a map on the floor.
One of those dull days Looking at depths Distances from the shore saying 'Where will we be this summer this autumn?'
Hearing the hurt again.
His body described, The anguish is complete.
I'm in a lonely Coroner's Court Away out in Swords.
The time it took, scarcely Twenty full minutes.
His decision maybe seconds Never to be forgotten Those wonderful months Ready in part preparing To meet the world.
Not this one, The next.

Cycle Off
By John O'Malley
We gave the best bike to Kevin.
He used it up to the last day.
That Sunday he horsed up and down the cycle-way.
Now looking down at The Nevada his blue eyes said it all then.
Bewildered by what he saw, no release from overloading.
Calm came, but not in a permanent easy way for the rest of us left behind.