COLLY McGURK AND
MY INTEREST IN GIRLS
Some people never leave,
they linger like cave drawings of the mind.
I was six and remember sunshine
when she breezed through my grandmother’s shop,
papers and sweets;
into the small side parlour,
long down and gone.
At play in my solitary way,
though I didn’t then know
she was my first breath of Bohemia,
long dark hair, a guitar and jeans.
In the presence of patience and beauty,
I was allowed to strum the magical strings
into what was music to me,
for I’d never held a guitar before.
Her family were travelling people,
fairs and shows,
and I hoped,
as soon as she’d gone to see her again.
She never returned,
but remained a lost wish strumming
and quietly singing on that Victorian sofa.
Most of my childhood has flown,
but that rare combination of moment and tone
has qualities of amber.
The young woman with perfect cheekbones,
and the boy in middle-age
retains an impossible love for girls with guitars.
Colly McGurk And My Interest In Girls. First published 2016.