‘I had as many things to say to you’ by Yvonne Cullen

I had as many things to say to you
as the chestnut tree has leaves

about a heartbreak of Deliveroo cyclists on Parkgate Street
at leaf-fall-smell and cherry-red tail-light time.

A backbreak of Deliveroo cyclists
in the wrong world and in the world terrible.

Paint peeling like crying.
(And what it was all for was for the pain).

So long since I last knew to assume not everyone is happy:
the chef slouching in the kitchen doorway

of the restaurant that keeps closing and re-opening,
unseen arms clattering pots

in the barracks’ apartments and your arms somewhere,
raised or down, or feeling their emptiness, though I hope not.

Not after we broke my heart open to the smell of wild lilac.
And to the sound that just turned out

to be someone on his knees in an open window playing
a not quite hidden ukulele on Mount Brown.

From issue 19: spring/summer 2025

About the Author
Yvonne Cullen lives in Dublin and in Inishbofin where she leads writing and creativity retreats. Publishing poetry since 1995 (‘A gifted poet’ – John Burnside), she is working on several distinct collections, non-fiction and documentary projects about her two-place life, and about Ireland’s almost forgotten travelling shows.