Straw Widow

 
Monday is putting in time,
Tuesday, the longest day,
Wednesday, a frisson –
a swell between my legs
while I track your journey
from industrial estate,
to train, to bigger train;
the final stretch is your walk
from the station to home,
and me: your straw widow.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


This Is No Cana
after Stanley Spencer's painting


The wedding breakfast is eaten
and our guests are idling,
there's no handy miracle man
to turn good water to better wine.

My bride is regretful about
the poverty of our feast.

'What can we do?' I say to her,
my mind on our honeymoon:
the raw velvet of her opening,
the soft suck of skin over skin.

'Let them eat cake,' she says,
and I'm glad that I've married her.



* Nuala Ní Chonchúir lives in Galway, Ireland. Her bilingual poetry collection Tattoo:Tatú (Arlen House, 2007) was shortlisted for the 2008 Strong Award. Nuala adds: “Twenty of the poems in English also have Irish versions/translations. In Ireland we call our other language 'Irish'. In Irish it is called 'Gaeilge' (pronounced 'gwayl-ga'). For clarity, and usually only to non-Irish people, we call it Irish-Gaelic. The Gaeltacht is where native Irish speakers live.”