St Ann’s Square
Manchester, 23rd May 2017

Because I cannot show you
what is at the centre of all this
I will lay language up to its edge,
walk its edges the way I moved
through the back of the crowd
too afraid to go in. I had to shade
my eyes from all the light spilling
from the square’s pavements,
bursting from the shiny pink balloons
and piles of lace-edged hearts.
There were white roses heaped
on the steps and daisies dripping
from the fountain, sunflowers spilling
over the stone slabs. There were
more flowers than people—
so many the crowds had to step back
to let in HGVs and transit vans,
men pulling roses from the backs of lorries
shaking their bald heads and wiping roses
from the corners of their eyes,
speaking in quiet voices that were roses, too.
And why not pile flowers on the stone floor,
why not pile stems, string and plastic—
things that can be held and understood?
No matter how I try to turn this afternoon,
no matter how I try to touch it, press it,
hold it to the light—
I cannot get hold of what is missing inside,
cannot begin to come close
because to come close means to step
into a place I cannot go—
a place where language stops.

Mariah Whelan is a poet from Oxford, UK. Her debut collection The Love I Do To You was shortlisted for the Poetry Book Awards and won the AM Heath Prize. Her website is mariahwhelan.com and her socials’ handle is @MWhelanWriter.