Cringeblog.com May 2016).
It is twenty years to the day,
since you drove all night,
in foul winter rain.
Someone saw him hitching lifts,
a hundred miles from home.
Although exhausted, we talked all
until the sun smiled between yellow
well rested from the day before.
And yet, aft er all this time,
we had fallen foul of idle speculation
that he was alive and well.
We hoped it was true,
that he would turn up someday,
out of the blue.
I love those tales of roller blades,
Sunday dance halls and schoolyard
For you, those happy days
are shades of broken smiles
and pensive faces.
Those times are gone.
A long time gone,
lost in shadows of the past,
wrapped in blankets of youthful
drowning in a raging tide,
whilst fading fast.
➽Seán Maguire has been writing poetry, song lyrics, short stories and non-fiction for over thirty years and has had a considerable amount of his work published in magazines, newspapers, anthologies and online blogs. The above poem is taken from his collection For Those Left Behind.