-
in the doorway in darkness,
listening to the sound of the new silence,
the hiss of rain moving its way through the trees.
-
I am reminded of Joyce and that description of the snow,
blowing in from the West of Ireland.
And now I’ll have to look for it again,
and read it through one more time.
-
And I also know, that all through this land right now,
people are dying. And so many will be left to cope,
with the harshness of sudden loss,
of being left alone — and all that it brings.
-
I know too that tomorrow,
I’ll walk out in the rain, make my way through
shining green Hawthorn copses,
heavily festooned with white bloom and I’ll think of you then.
In memory of Eavon Boland
Born: 24 September 1944, Dublin, Ireland
Died: 27 April 2020, Dublin, Ireland
27th April 2020
©robcullen010620
-
