Differently

I miss you differently, Dad;
I see you in that older man’s face
as he excitedly talks about football
and how his parish team did.
I glimpse you watching the news
contentedly complaining about politics,
we both knew
that your vote would be unchanged.
I think of you when I cook dinner
and remember the meals we shared–
when I need your wisdom,
your support, your love,
I remember you and hear you say,
“There’s no such thing as a worry
That’s stupid to the person who has it.”
I feel your absence,
I miss you both, yourself and Mam,
just differently.

The Cherry Blossom Tree

They cut You down–
Our beautiful cherry blossom tree;
for over three decades,
You grew, and blossomed,
and spread your branches
to the sky, to the world,
and in our hearts.
They did not know the meaning
that You had for us,
Your role in our lives,
that You were a part of our story–
The way your pink petals
coated the ground with love in April.
It is their turn now and
they will have a different story,
one that matters to them;
But You are still a part of ours.

Miriam Colleran lives in Kildare in Ireland with her two daughters and their two doggies. She is a doctor working in hospice and palliative medicine, plays the Irish harp and is learning about poetry.