Worst Case. A poem by Edel Burke

This is our fear,
that after all this time,
instead of visiting you with armfuls
of meadowsweet and purple loosestrife,
we’ll be left – standing
like plane trees, not close enough
to form a windbreak, carrying
white lilies and a wreath of wild celery.

No one at hand to offer comfort,
no way to know who might have come,
no bit of a do after as you’ve always wanted.
You tell us, you’re staying in your own room,
that you’re content there,
the television for company.


Edel Burke born in Co. Galway lives in Castlebar. She is winner of Dromineer Poetry Competition 2017 and highly commended iYeats Poetry 2017 and Over the Edge, short story, 2014. She has been published in Something About Home, New Writing on Migration and Belonging, Crannóg 45, The Rush Anthology, Boyne Berries-The Ledwidge Issue and Banshee.

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