Liam Barr

Someone helps in a way we didn't ask for.
The advice arrives uninvited.
They tidy the pile we knew our way around.
The questions keep coming while we are trying to think.

We react to the form the help came in.
Not the reason it came.

Help will not always arrive in the form we wanted.
It arrives in the form they had.

The frustration can stay with us.
It does not have to reach them.

They were not trying to wear us down.
They were trying to help.

I wanted to see a cockatoo before I left.
A red or a yellow tail to say goodbye.

I watched the trees for a week.
Listened for that wailing call that carries further than they do.
Nothing came.

Then a relative met a stranger by chance.
Someone who collects feathers.
They put me in touch.

I asked for a goodbye.
I was given something lighter to carry.

Someone starts telling you what's going wrong for them.
Something drops in you before they've finished.

That part is a reflex.
Feeling it was never up to you.

What comes after is.
Carrying it home. Turning it over at midnight.
Living in their situation like it has your name on it.

They're deep in something.
Climbing down doesn't lift anyone out.
It takes away the one pair of hands still on solid ground.