When Mother Read The News

This poem, written in contemporary free verse, is the second in the 'Kildare' series.

Listen to: When Mother Read The News

Armed with a mug of instant coffee and a fag,
my mother opened the Daily Telegraph,
and read for a while,
before her eyes fell on the brief article:

‘The British bulk carrier, “Kildare”, 153,000 tonnes dwt, 
is reported missing in the Indian Ocean. 
The crew are reported safe, 
but the ship’s owners have provided no further details.’

She scanned the pages,
sucking hard on her fag,
drawing smoke deep
into her lungs,
urgently seeking a clue
searching for news of her son,
reaching for her mug, for something to do.

The telephone rang,
she flew to the phone;
it was him, the nice man from the office.
His courteous, soothing voice assured her
we were all safe (we weren’t),
though not yet in port.
The nice man oozed with confidence; all would be well,
(it was the ‘70s after all).

She grumbled
she’d seen the article
before the courtesy of a telephone call,
but she was pragmatic,
and if I was ‘safe’,
it was all that mattered, she said,
(it was the ‘70s, after all).

She replaced the receiver,
and, with a fresh lit fag hanging from her lips,
clipped the article from the paper,
slipped it into the little drawer she kept for such small items,
and thought no more about it,
(it was the ‘70s, after all).

I knew the full story was too colourful
for a mother’s ears,
so when I returned home,
I took her 200 fags and a version of the truth
to quell her curiosity;
but I prefer the tale I’ve lived with for fifty years since.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I shall look forward to the tale next time we meet for supper or even lunch.
8 October 2024 at 14:37
Simon Beechinor said…
But we don't know who you are, so we'll struggle to invite you - we can't just have bums off the street turning up!
8 October 2024 at 15:55
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