Malachy O’Higgins

Malachy O’Higgins

Malachy O’Higgins had stamped his name upon the 1st page of a book
I bought the book
And traced him down
He lived not in Killiney but near Donnybrook

I found his house along the River Dodder
They told me he was dead....

He died a spluttering death...
Because he’d smoked too much ...and had not walked enough
....his aunt Jane said...

Malachy O’Higgins..
Departed in a hurry..
He’d lost his everything and could not live with that.
He could not bare the pain of all his wrongs
...and all the wrongs that had been done to him.

...He’d played piano with such skill and verve...
But his fingers stiffened and he could not play a note
He’d weaved the sweetest music from the violin...but his ears were silenced
And he could not hear the sound.
The music that was once his life...was gone.

Now....he brooded in his armchair ...
Staring at the paper on the wall...
Repeated pattern and intaglio was all he saw
..little more.

One day he rose up with a burst...the energy was coursing thru his blood
He made his way to Grafton Street and stood upon a box..
A pigeon on his arm
This gave him life anew..this gave him life !

Until two boys took off with his grey hat
And and all the money in it.

They had run away not knowing what they’d done
They’d crushed the soul he’d tried to resurrect
This act now broke the spirit of the man...

He stepped down from that box..body bent
And headed for the strand, determined in his stride..

Two black shoes neatly side by side
A tie a shirt ...lay on the sand

He walked into the Ocean
Into the shallow waters....on and on and out
Willing now to meet his God
And he called out to Neptune...and he called out loud and wild
And though his voice was strong and roared above the waves
No answer fell upon the deafness of his ears.

His foot prints in the sand were taken by the tide...
And one by one they disappeared...

He’d swum into the hidden folds that lie within the sea

Malachy O’Higgins had stamped his name upon the first page of my book
Perhaps in hope of some kind of eternity.

Kristine Byrne Feb/March. 2012