Tuesday, February 02, 2010

St Brigid's Day

In honour of the patron saint of poets, a bit of me poetry:


Let scent of violets rise to breath
as cottonwood silk drifts down

Let osprey unfold to wind
as coots and mallards huddle

Let swings be swung, hard-pumped to sky
as new grass stains bared knees and feet

As from all time
as from all time.

Let match's sulphur hang in air
as candles light faces gathered

Let gravel grind glass-sharp edges
as new silence settles in

Let tears rinse ancient ache to softer shadows
as hollowness is named

As from all time
as from all time.


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