Paul Durcan
Parents
A child's face is a drowned face:
Her parents stare down at her asleep
Estranged from her by a sea:
She is under the sea
And they are above the sea:
If she looked up she would see them
As if locked out of their own home,
Their mouths open,
Their foreheads furrowed:
Pursed-up orifices of fearful fish
Their big ears are fins behind glass:
And in her sleep she is calling out to them
 Father, Father
 Mother, Mother
But they cannot hear her:
She is inside the sea
And they are outside the sea:
And through the night, stranded, they stare
At the drowned, drowned face of their child.