for Sinead Fenton
Rain blurs his twenty-twenty vision
swerving to avoid the bend
in the straight white line; darkness holds
barley in memory of one for the road.
Caught in amber an ambulance siren
warns oncoming traffic
of broken glass and weather forecasts,
windscreen wipers pendulum on.
Cats eyes guide his remains to theatre.
A generation of strangers inherit
his night blindness
as the eye surgeon harvests his cornea.