Poem of the week: A Note on the Edge

Driving to the hospital

I don’t play music

though Leonard Cohen’s last CD

is in the pocket of the car door

with it all getting darker

and the treaty needed

between your love and mine.

I don’t play music

though Ludovico Einaudi is waiting,

hands poised above the piano,

the way my father’s used to be

before he played the Nocturnes –

Chopin, John Field.

I don’t play

but the frosted trees strike

the rim of the sky like a bell

or a note on the edge

of a Tibetan singing bowl

and another part of me

is kneeling down to pray.

Lani O’Hanlon is a dancer, movement therapist and widely published poet. She has an MA in creative writing from Lancaster University

A poem by Lani O’Hanlon