Aftershock Poem by Greg Costello

A motorcycle grumbled to a standstill
In front of our house.
The rider turned the key,
Rocked the heavy Honda
On to it's tiptoes, and dismounted.
He straightened, headlocked his helmet,
And started up our path.
I watched from a distance,
As our exotic visitor
Disappeared inside the house.
Moments later I was ordered to
"Go get your big brother";
My Mam crying and smoking,
Neither of which I'd seen before.
I bolted like a spooked animal,
And blurted on finding him;
"Dad might be dead".
A Guard had come to inform us
That he had been involved in a "serious collision".
That night I fell into a deep shock.
Forty years on, that sense of panic re-ignites,
When I consider the day,
An unearthly messenger, may come to call.