Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

He was Fr then – “ Reverent … ”
we had gone to the same high school –
Catholic of course
eight or ten years senior he came back after ordination
and spoke to some of the classes.
A clergyman old boy –
the pinnacle of attainment.
The school authorities paraded him like an Olympian.
I thought him pompous, self-satisfied and supercilious
and exactly what Jesus didn’t have in mind for a priest
or
what he did have in mind when he railed against the Pharisees
and hypocrites.

A decade and a half later
on vacation, and change in vocation
“Mr ” now …. definitely him – distinctive features
and news had dribbled through from my parents
and old school friends,
about change in career.
Wife and children, secular and ordinary
he looked grounded and very happy.

Howard
a name that had ceased to be used
more than old-fashioned, a decade later
extinct.
A quiet boy in a noisy world :
tractors,
trailers,
trucks –
hard labour and strong language.

Thin and balletic
a  dancer at a shot-put meeting
or wrestling ring.
Half my age – exactly
11 and 22
perhaps symmetry grappled attention.
Ethereal
good-looking
pretty,
beautiful even.

Many years later I learned he
had the love of many
had, had many lovers
and was a poet. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

17 ½, last year at high school
first contact with a woman
other than
fumble and squeeze.
Almost boyfriend and girlfriend
1970’s, disco and strobe
I couldn’t retell the colour of her hair that first night
golden seemed too glib, too clichéd.
It would remain undefined –
for seven years,
until I saw tablecloths of wheat fields.

Three months gone before I turned 18,
lonely lecture theatres and oratory’s
ache kept a look out for
virtual lookalike or call back.
Constant thoughts, every day – several times daily
four, perhaps eight months
then one day they stopped
not planned, not stared down, just migrated
to another country, another season.
Still,
wind flicked memory debris would sometimes remember
when disco was hot
and punk rock was young.
Did she too?
Or how we resisted – first time for both?

Age 46 we are boarding the same flight
she doesn’t recognise me.