Month: April 2020

You hold shaking hands and provide the ultimate care:
Your presence, the knowing, that you are simply there.
You rise to face the giant of disease and despair,
It is your finest hour, though you may be unaware.

From “A Prayer for the Caregiver” by Bruce McIntyre

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By the path, a circle of wild lupins hold
their upright spears, waiting for news.
I can imagine how they toll their blue bells,
hailing, luminous, and I bend to them,
listening at their hundred open mouths
so that for a while I fall under their spell

From “Sirens” by Seán Hewitt

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The fishing has finished. It is the beginning
of hunting season. It is the time to pick apples
and the time to make cider.
A lost flock of Sebastopol geese
shuffle from a pond on Stephen’s Green.
They do not know that it is Michaelmas.

From “Michaelmas Daisies” by Majella Kelly

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Albatrosses rise
to 10,000 feet, cock their wings, and glide
until the sound of spray wakes them.
When I am there, silence can open
like a sea rose, billowing.

From “Blue Dark” by David McLoghlin

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Now I must these three praise –
Po’boys, gumbo, crawfish etouffeé.
It’s a long ocean voyage away, indeed,
From mackerel, champ and day old disheen.

From “April, 1920” by August Kleinzahler

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she touched him, doing again
in that place, at that hour,
the quiet work of love.

From “Now That He’s Gone” by Michael Lauchlan

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Smell and colour in a house
ruled by hyacinth are such
that we forget to look out

From “Narcissus” by Seán Lysaght

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