Black Night Poem by Seán O Muiríosa

The night was wet as I recall
And missing my stop through drunken sleep
I had to wait till the driver circled.
People left, the bus thinned out
But the air it thickened
With each rapturous departure.

From 10 to 6 to 4 then 2
All that was left was me and you,
And if the night could have blackened
Anymore, I'm sure it would have
And engulfed us both.

Swishing ditches all around us
A brief appearance by the moon
Flickered like a warning sign:
This was the deep marrow of bone
Without other faces for distraction
Without drink and interactions –
Just you and I, one seat apart
In the back of a bus, a bus to nowhere.

Your eyes murdered me that night
With chilling insights of what we created.
A devouring hate rendering
My igniting thoughts lose on me.
Your murderous hate was not just that
Because it lives on in you, it moves.
It breaths.

Looking at it now, I wish it had boiled over.
Maybe we would have really killed
Each other then, or you me, or I you
Or released the infectious gas
That has built up, making fools of us all.

The meeting of two souls too different
Or just too alike has been left
To simmer for now, to curdle.
The unknowing bus-driver had circled.
I was home at last.

The black wet pavement’s gravel
Crunched beneath my shoes like bones.
“I'll have you one day, ”
I thought you said smiling as I closed the bus door.
“What, ” I turned.

“I'll see you Monday, ” you smiled.
And I smiled back, “yeah see you then.”
Not really caring about time, place or when.
Mystified by man’s black creation, how far we can fall.
On a night that was wet as I recall.