*Featured image courtesy of Pau Sayrol on Unsplash*
Here is another beautiful piece brought to us by our Poet in Residence, PS Conway. Take a look!
Clouds hang low o’er Doolough Valley
wispt and haunted like we ghosts
who recall the horrors of hunger
recall a child who fed like sheep
eating grass beside the Dead felled roadside
recall the cold that bites so deep
through gossamer skin, nowhere to hide
from the damp, from the cries
carrion crows pull out the eyes
of a frail father whose name remains
oh so forgotten oh so long ago
but the land ne’er forgets
its recollections will ne’er relent
nor forgive a foreign aristocrat’s neglect
for the blight of poverty’s anguishes
the poor, the chosen folk of Jesus Christ
no loaves nor fish for you and I
only one bitter sorrowful wish:
Lord, please let me die
and yet there is no salvation
and yet we lost broken souls linger
in these poignant miles of lakeside boneyard
‘neath the gray mournful clouds
erstwhile memories caught in its shroud
PS Conway is our 2024 – 2025 Poet in Residence. To learn more about PS Conway, visit his page here.
