Men of Maeve
Tunneling through the darkness, our train
is rail-cornering into south Armagh.
Memory conjures the roll of hill, green
ditch, the breeze-swirl of squared meadows.
That resolute boy defended the Ulster
Gap here, with spear-shaft and javelin justice.
The Bull was safe. He slaughtered his nine
hundred by the banks of the bravely
exposed bog. Death’s silence seeps into
the fold and frounce of the black Cooley.
Have we come to Belfast already,
to Victoria’s iron and glass? We gather
our cases and stuff newspapers into bags,
while outside blobs of rain slap and bullet
against the window’s mirrored
blackness. I frown at my forgetfulness:
I have no coat with which to brave the elements.
Men of Maeve
- Jimmy O'Connell
- Posts: 881
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 10:14 pm
- Location: Ireland
Men of Maeve
Oh bless the continuous stutter
of the word being made into flesh
-The Window-
of the word being made into flesh
-The Window-
Re: Men of Maeve
I enjoyed the quasi-historical reflections. Somehow I was omnipresent too, Jimmy.
I feel quite transported through shadow. Thanks.
mat.
I feel quite transported through shadow. Thanks.
mat.
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.