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I See You Dancing, Father. December 20, 2006

Posted by Rambling Man in Poetry & Humor.

I See You Dancing, Father.

by Brendan Kennelly

No sooner downstairs after the night’s rest
And in the door
Than you started to dance a step
in the middle of the kitchen floor

And as you danced
you whistled.
You made your own music
Always in tune with yourself.

Well nearly always, anyway.
You’re buried now
In Lislaughtin Abbey
And whenever I think of you

I go back beyond the old man
Mind and body broken
To find the unbroken man.
It is the moment before the dance begins,

Your lips are enjoying themselves
Whistling an air.
Whatever happens or cannot happen
In the time I have to spare
I see you dancing, father.



1. Phidelm - April 20, 2009

This is one of my favourite poems. Love Brendan Kennelly’s work. There is also one by him about Dublin very early in the morning before people are really up and about … the buildings, you see, appear to have a life of their own.

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