Little has been
Little has been passed down to me of hers
I wish she’d
I wish she’d lasted longer,we might have made a new start
I dreamt a robe
I dreamt a robe of colour/so pure it touched the world
One of these days
One of these days,I must teach you to follow a pattern
the sting
the sting of her hand
and the coming
and the coming and going of ships
wrapped
wrapped entirely in her own shadow/the world beyond her,already a dream,already lost
Tongues
Tongues of flame in her dark eyes(Her bitter refusal to allow Meehan to escape the cycle of poverty) (Reminiscent of Meehan’s grandfathers ignorant,old-fashioned behaviour