The thick of the moment

A 
Day 
Has gone
As birdsong
Late autumn &
Everything sparkles
Like midday sun on water
& my daughter whispers in my ear
& her breath folds my ear to my shoulder
& I love her infinite & her tiny hand in mine
Helps me forget for an instant that I am sad &
My wife who holds our baby to her breast & hums
Flicks me a look & my mouth smiles as our cat gaits 
Infinity symbols between my legs & the dog lies straight
As an arrow on the top of the sofa & my daughter climbs onto
My lap & cowers into me & says daddy my daddy & smiles teeth
& gums & I am sad in a picture of calm hindsight happiness that 
Is ceaselessly static yet I see the end as footsteps on a carpet
That make no sound & maybe are not there or are but far
Away like stars that too are sad & dying or already
Dead & my daughter now lies her head on my
Lap & sees a fading cut on the inside of my
Arm & her finger follows it before she 
Twists her neck & arcs her head &
Kisses it & says poor daddy
Daddy have bubu & I say
Yes but now it’s better
& she says all better
& I say yes yes
All better
Now.

---

Patrick Holloway is a writer of poems and stories. He is the 2021 winner of the Molly Keane Creative Writing Award and the Allingham Flash Fiction Prize. He has been published by The Irish Times, The Moth, The Stinging Fly, Southword, Carve, among many others.

---