There Wont Be A Word About Us
Mam and Dad had a wistful saying: “Forty years from now, there wont be a word about us…” rueing the passing of life and death… We always think it wont be so, but maybe it is truer than we care to admit and is true of us all…
Forty years since have not yet gone
– What a sketch I’ll be should I till then last! –
But still we talk and tell the yarns
About the people and times past.
They got some things right and some things wrong
Like us were but human too
They did all right – as must we all –
As life we muddle through
They feck you up the poet wrote
As we do to ours in our time:
It is our fate, the fate of man
To be guilty of that crime.
The time of year quick comes around
Each year with little said and less fuss
Maybe they were not so much wrong when forty years have passed
Saying “There wont be a word about us!”
