Saturday, January 17, 2009

Mud and Bones

Up in the west of ireland on some hillside a few years back bad stormy weather caused a landslide that revealed bones of neolithic settlers, hidden for years. There's a storm almost as bad brewing outside and it reminded me of a poem I wrote I thought I would share...

Mud and Bones

I lie in the dark mud of Connaught
in the cruel rocky earth of the West
where the sun sets low in the evening
and HyBrazil lies just beyond sight
and I am part of your land and your lives,
though you see only the mound of my grave
and the grass growing high above my head
I am the bones of your country, its roots
the anchor of life as you know it
your seed, breed and long generation -
And I lie in the dark mud of Connaught.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrne


1 comment:

S.L. Corsua said...

I like the strong voice in this poem, in its second half. The first four lines set the scene vividly (in a panoramic-view kind of way). Thank you for sharing. Cheers.