Stone, baked by summers
long since forgotten by
the living and the dead
races furrowed fields
across countryside lanes
as a spring-dew sunrise
reveals its scars
Tag: poem
Reave
When there was no more
land to steal
and the people were made
wraiths
the last syllable of
the old tongue had been spoken
it was not enough.
Liberate
Rise like a single ember
caught in ecstatic swirling
tendrils of soft smoke
Rise like the first shoots
of a tentative spring
Rise like the Sun
greeting the East
Rise, rise together.
Irish (summer?)
Slate-grey winds beckon
an inauspicious August
marking the end of
a moody Irish summer
the starburst sunshine
long since past
more legend than memory
as rain falls in silent sheets
Two thousand and five
Moments long past
come forth, afresh
as if they arose
incorruptible, from the crypt
oblivious to the passage of time
each year since no more than
a mild nuisance
the bell rings on the dot
clear as dappled dew in the shade
8:30, first period geometry
on top of the hill, seven staircases up
the first day of the rest of my lfie
on an August day, unsure if school
means that summer weather is now
somehow improper
a continent, an ocean, a decade apart
yet no more distant than
the tips of my fingers
Valor
Valor is
a false king
on a crimson throne.
Scarlet rivers
Azure rivers flow
entwined, a
force of nature
while
their scarlet kin
exist
persist
drawn from
courageous hearts
