entry picture

His headstone verses are writ in water

They  draw the eyes unto the fact of death.

Lichen lines that love-and-only-love remembers.

All we knew was the deepest blue of

This good man’s eyes. It is written in our blood

That mortal love will always end like this. Time

Weathers the stonemason’s art to a flat palimpest

Of hieroglyphics which resemble not the zest

Of pumping blood. Stones do not record the passing

Shadows of a glance, a look. Such kisses that we all desire

Will eulogise our tear-filled eyes as we stare into winter

Fires, and disguise is less than futile,

For we must gather all the force that we can muster

To face this meeting with our fates on All Souls’ Day.

◄ A permanent loss of happiness

Caillteanas buan de sonas ►


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