The house we didn't rent
The house we didn’t rent
The house we didn’t rent
Is a dolmen on the map of us,
Or a boat not taken out
While others went
Bright over the water.
The house we didn’t live in
When we were ready to live there
Is the lover we laughed at,
Who now laughs with someone else:
There are houses in the heart
We might have rented for a time –
Now we regret not seeing
What their windows looked on.
The house we didn’t rent
Is the children we didn’t have,
The walled space holding
Like a bowl the gift of different things.
Fred Johnston lives in Galway and founded Galway’s annual literature festival. He has published eight collections of poetry and with his group, Parson’s Hat, performs and records traditional Irish music.
Page(s) 48
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