Catch by Ciaran O’Driscoll

I referred to this poem this morning when Keith and I played at the Farmers Market and I promised that I’d post it here.

If you were with us this morning and came looking for it, you are my kind of human. Thank you.

If you stumbled here unknowingly and are reading on for the sheer love of poetry, you are also my kind of human.

Catch by Ciaran O’Driscoll

based on an anecdote of Ed Reavy

It is good for poets to take their


to bed with them, for musicians to


within an arm’s reach of their


Not in vain have I been granted this


a lantern of the mind that wakes

me up.

This morning when my son called in

to ask

about his roster in my plumbing


I told him that the first thing he

must do

was listen to the tune I caught last


I played it and the boy approved my


A gift of nature, night and urgency:

to slip from beside my dear one and


briskly as a fox to the music-place,

my den of soundproof comfort,

knowing well

the dear one just arrived won’t wait


Last night I sat to play not knowing


I’d make of the small tumult in my


finding and losing form. But when I


the bow to string, the tune took off


an ice-cube moving on its


From Prairie Schooner; University of Nebraska Press; Volume 85, Number 2, Winter 2011, p 174.

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