Dark turf The breeze stirred ferns on the high bank. I watched you drop down the layers of Cloneen bog, then...
Listen to Laura Swift read her poem “Silage Time.” Silage Time They looked so snug All four bundled...
Relic & once a series of pulleys rose sweet hay to the high-arched loft & once cattle were milked with...
Ardmore Bay Hearts may be harvested at such a place, between the sea and the dishevelled land Where in a...
Life From a Garden Fence A wooden rain barrel— weathered and worn— slowly bleeds sweet elixir in drips and drabs...
Gyrification There will be time for waiting Enough. Too much Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa watching. Consider the river’s meanders that more and more...
The Wood He wanted to see the wood one last time. So, they took him back to trees dripping and...
Lisbon Wake to the bustle smell cinnamon – sound of an accordion played by a woman with sewn eyes; Square...
Dandelion Sun A child’s sun finds a dream in young eyes. In blinks of dandelion eclipses, refracted light reflects on...
Somewhere in the Blue Majestic. I imagine you proud out there, somewhere high on an Appalachian trail, where the boulders...
My life as an onion dry skins for compost layers of meaning rings of time faster than a tree cut...
AT THE KITCHEN TABLE The late spring snow catches us off-guard, drifts against the henhouse wall, blots out the distant...