The Company We Keep

In my small space sharp shadows

slant against the summer evening

reminding us that Scotland is so green

because of the pesky rain. All day

I’ve dipped in and out to watch water

flying into fire, all day listening

for a number out of the sky (which has fallen)

on Kensington. And still there are flames

fluttering 18hrs later, in the black tower…

all this viewing of death, live, continuous

while we wait for that number ‘twelve’

to leap into the hundreds. My mother

told me about a famous Glsagow fire

where the windows were barred

and the workers screaming and no way out

while onlookers screamed. Here I am

weeping like an onlooker, that community

those neighbours, cousins and shop-keepers

keeping company, waiting, like me

to know the worst, all of them holding

themselves together, keeping dry

knowing that this is not yet the time

to water their cheeks...not until

the names fly out of the mouths

of officials with hardened but aching hearts,

how could they not ache for the uncounted?