Zephyr
Samples
August Lament
In Alaska, fireweed bloom,
salmon cook in the canner,
aspen trees shimmer in a zephyr
and jewelled broccoli grows tender
in sweet pea filled air.
Peggy grates cabbage into coleslaw, boils new potatoes
and welcomes nights long enough to sleep-if you want to.
The equinox tilts the sun lower through the kitchen window.
Friends land with raspberry cordial.
My old mother shoos a sauntering moose
away from the garden with a tea towel.
Conversations dance, forks clatter
and the location of a new berry patch might slip-
Across the Atlantic, rain and longing wake me.
Legendary Note Left on Car at Annaghmakerrig
For Enda Coyle-Greene and Maureen Boyle
Please move your car to the car park. The poets need to see
the fucking lake.
Bernard Loughlin
It's two o'clock. I stare at the lake.
Eight horses, one wearing a lavender
blanket, sleep in the sun.
Downstairs, artists eat curried lentils.
Flaming pink azaleas wave at me
across the newly mowed grass.
Trees by the lake hunker down,
wait for a warmer day to bud.
David tinkles the ivories,
Conor writes a snog-free novel,
Abbie fetches pigs, Selma paints.
The Seward ladies dance.
And somewhere in Lourdes, a brave girl
lights a candle for her lake-staring mother.