When I was Afraid to Publish It

I was alone in the car

resting in that silent hour it takes

to drive south

to buy chicken feed, broccoli and milk

when a girlfriend’s text

told me to listen to him and I did

grateful for apps and phones I normally hate

for their hold on my throat, but when

I heard Padraig’s voice, that tenderness

that willingness to linger over others’

profound minutiae, to savor sorrow

the glowing char of it, I grew the spine

to slip off my skin for this book

peel back muscles and nerves, say

look at these boney words

and I just knew Padraig would

have the guts, the heart to look, to say

what strong bones you have

and I wept there, alone

with Padraig, himself disembodied

zipping me back up like a father

a good friend sending me

into the rough world, book in hand

spine open, reaching for you

with immense gratitude to Pádraig Ó Tuama,

poet and host of Poetry Unbound