Maurice Devitt - Three Poems
A Habit Worth Forming Have you ever found yourself queuing in your local cafĆ©, thinking of nothing in particular besides snaring your favourite seat, when the woman behind taps you on the shoulder, leans in to whisper something in your ear? No, I havenāt either, though Iād hate to miss a day, in case it ever happened. * Lost for Words One day I dropped my dictionary and the words fell out. I was in a hurry so I swept them into a pile and left the house. When I returned the words were nowhere to be seen and now my life is a catalogue of surprises ā a strange dog on the couch, unwanted salt in my soup and the unlucky spectre of a fresh crack in the mirror ā though, to be fair, Iāve also noticed the reappearance of bliss every time you call. * Nascent Romance This morning the barista fashioned a heart on the top of my latte. I thought nothing of it until you sat beside me and the heart started to quiver, gently at first, but, when you asked me to pass the sugar, I detected a definite skip, hoped you hadnāt noticed, gulped down my coffee and left. It was only later I wondered, whether by chance you had caught me in one of your selfies. * Maurice Devitt is the curator of the Irish Centre for Poetry Studies site, a founder member of the Hibernian Writersā Group and published debut collection with Doire Press in 2018. I love short poems because when you plant them they can turn into epics.
