by Vernon Scannell

‘The pain will go, in time.’ I said.

I covered him and stroked his head.

Nothing I read or heard Instructed me in what to do.

Aching here and I can see her.'

The heart and stomach – ‘she has been

She hurts’ – he touched himself between

‘A girl at school called Jessica,

‘Jessica? What do you mean?

‘Jessica.’ The sound was blurred.

And then he spoke a single word:

He snuffled, gave a little moan,

I said “Why can’t you sleep? A pain?

Untidy carpet on the floor.

Sheets mangled and his eiderdown

distraught,

And found him wide awake,

I went upstairs, switched on his light,

The darkness whimpered in his room.

Three weeks afterwards, at night,