He’d come to Buncrana
hoping the lough would show him
how to go on with an old trouble
but the shouting called him away.
An elderly man touched his arm
‘can you swim, would you, would you please’
so polite he’d no time to think of the cold
cramping his lungs, the drag of his last meal
sinking him as surely as the car would soon sink.
No time to think how sixteen weeks of life
thrust through a side window would deliver
them both to a shore he didn’t remember leaving.
(A baby was passed out of a car window seconds
before it sank in Buncranna Lough March 2016)