Poem - MAG Poetry Prize 2010
The Laburnum Portrait
by
Dublin, Ireland
From darkness, submerging drains in a February thaw,
Drowned Clare meadows came flooding back once more –
Those mornings when veiled sun remotely kissed
The intruding lake, and the hedges enclosed only mist,
Or a mirror-scape, set off by a blundering cow,
Undulated till fixed as in memory now.
Winter coats the fields in plush, fills hoofprints with glass,
A few last leaves cling to the donkey’s back
And golden blossom is archived in powder black;
Friends reassemble, hymns long forgone are clear
But nothing will stay, the retreating Shannon will pass
In stony silence around us on Barrington’s pier.
Thoughts track me from the depths of the road I have made,
Night-diving through the wrecks of your thousand ships,
Taking the dreaded ferry on a thousand trips;
You smile again now from beneath the laburnum cascade
At my winter-flooded half-world, that never calms
To your voice; my crackling radio can’t summon your charms.
Added: 21.04.2010
Back
