Song for the old year

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Redemption comes at such a cost
Freezing winds off the Irish sea
Blow me away from hearth and home
At such a cost - loss pressing on loss - 
Yet still the winter-birds sing,
Seemingly so carelessly,
And we know it costs them their whole life
To fly this way and sing and eat and build and build
Yet still this merely human, framed of earth, 
Cannot scrape away the curse of discontent: 
Sitting solid as a rock, squatting squarely 
On the chest where a bird would build a nest
Then fly high high into the blue skies of summer
So far, far away from this deep and dark complacency. 


◄ Carmel

Gorffwysfa ►


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Chris Armstrong

Tue 16th Jan 2018 09:27

Thanks, John - I really liked that! You capture the weight of human loss in the light of ongoing, but fragile, natural life so well. "And we know it costs them their whole life" and yet they sing to you. Good luck!

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keith jeffries

Mon 15th Jan 2018 22:13

Congratulations. This is good. Keith

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Jemima Jones

Mon 8th Jan 2018 20:58

if ever there was a poem worthy of being not just poem of the week but poem of the year! this in my opinion John would surely be the one. So so beautiful.Thank you. Jemima.

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