Today would’ve been John Mackie’s birthday. I still miss him very much as a friend on Facebook, a warm presence there, someone who shared my sense of humour. Here’s my poem that appeared on The Open Mouse.
for John
i.m. John MackieÂ
I’d had fantasy relatives before of course
Lily Langtry my distant LeBreton granny
Cary Grant my uncle Archie Leach
then you came along
you called me cousin then cuz
because of the Mackie McKee thing
and it stuck
though you felt more like an uncle
in reality a Facebook poetry friend
we only ever spoke through the ether
the cradling of a phone
the pressing of silent letters
we only ever touched on the day to day
the name of the latest passing
hurricane or star
we only found time
to argue about Bowie
you knew more about him than me
and more about Sorley MacLean
who was your actual uncle
you remembered sitting on his knee
and the smell of damp tweed
now I feel a need to find you
not necessarily to sit on your knee
but certainly to give you a hug
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Laura McKee 