Bridges

You look at me and speak
No words are spoken
Jade grey bridges
Meet me half way
I cross

Enough said!

When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping of the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other's work would bring us to our senses.

So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in my mine, our fluent dipping knives -
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.

from Clearances by Seamus Heaney