' ' ' ' Need To Know Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Here...a little pool
of words left unsaid

drying up
in the merciless sun

beating down upon
Stratford-upon-Avon.

There...a half un-
-finished sentence

left to wither & die
amongst beerstains, stubbed out buts
a dead fly & a few scattered cashew nuts.

There again
a dying longing

lingering on like a melting
Dali

clock over the back
of a garden chair.

Words trying to trek across
the vast desert stretches

between us
only a shy silence

that realises we
have to be together

but not
the how of it.

Suddenly you say:
'The only way
I am going to spend

the night here
is if I spend it

...with you! '

And suddenly
like a great geological
shift

there is no need

...for words.