Sunday, July 12, 2009

Tarmac Walk


Walking on airport tarmac,
long walk to the airbus, past several other planes,
courtesy of the biggest, cheapest, most soulless "airline" in europe,
smell of fumes and generators,
makes me think of the lungs of the guys in vis vests with mickey mouse ears,
which makes me think of my father's father,
who died years before I was born,
his lungs torn apart,
confused by the same sort of gunk,
and how this walk is a walk he might have took,
out on tarmac,
when he worked here -
yonks before customers were ever allowed feel wind on faces,
back when they were cherished precious things, not rats in mazes.
And I could feel the old man I never met,
who must've been so perfect,
because my granny still grows giddy at the thought of him,
smiling at her from above (of course),
still deep in love,
and he's walking with me,
and I can smell what love once smelt like to my gran.

6 comments:

Totalfeckineejit said...

Heartfelt poem, feels real ,Mrs Niamh .I like it lots.

Drama Queen said...

Wow! Creativity bursting out of you - that is lovely. I really liked it.

beedlemama said...

Really like it too, well done Mrs

Niamh B said...

Thanks folks - it's a bit of a slushy one alright...

Lily Sheehan said...

This was lovely - made me think of my grand dad who I had never met.

Niamh B said...

Strange news - a man with the same name as my grandad (a distant relative) passed away on Monday, being buried in the grandad's grave today. Weird coincidence.