Haunts

Haunts

Don't be afraid, old son, it's only me,
though not as I've appeared before,
on the battlements of your signature,
or margin of a book you can't throw out,
or darkened shop front where your face
first shocks itself into a mask of mine,
but here, alive, one Christmas long ago
when you were three, upstairs, asleep,
and haunting me because I conjured you
the way that child you were would cry out
waking in the dark, and when you spoke
in no child's voice but out of radio silence,
the hall clock ticking like a radar blip,
a bottle breaking faintly streets away,
you said, as I say now, Don't be afraid.


from Conjure (Picador, 2000), copyright © Michael Donaghy 2000, used by permission of the author's estate and the publisher.

Recordings

Michael Donaghy Reading from His Poems

1Caliban's Books

2Our Life Stories

3Irena of Alexandria

4The Tragedies

5Not Knowing the Words

6The Excuse

7Resolution

8Tears

9The River in Spate

10The Drop

11Black Ice and Rain

12Reprimands

13My Flu

14Haunts

15The Hunter's Purse

16A Repertoire

17A Reprieve

18Down

19City of God

20Liverpool

21The Brother

22Held

23Reliquary

24Machines

25Pentecost

26Shibboleth

27The Present

28Southwesternmost

29Alas, Alice

30Refusals

31Acts of Contrition

32Cruising Byzantium

33'Smith'

34Annie

35Local 32B

Books by Michael Donaghy