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Siúil, Siúil
January 22, 2015
i tripped today,
somewhere
between the road
and paddy's grave,
alone
in the thickets and
dusky heather,
and in the
silken
morning fog.
the blackbird
listened
as i sat and cried.
she was kindly,
wrinkled,
whispering
naughty child, alanna,
as she wiped the
berry stains
from
my fingers; the
bloodstains
from
my knees.
© Catlin B., Marblehead, MA
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