Good News! Gorey Library is nearly open for business. We are trying to contact the powers-that-be to establish if their offer of a meeting room still stands.
In the meantime, here is a poem by Carol Boland
In the meantime, here is a poem by Carol Boland
The Secret
leave lashes on your back
or smack like the crack of kindling
a gunshot on a Sunday afternoon.
Does it pierce your skin
sting like a nettle
or can you smudge it better
with a dock weed.
And when your tongue is tied
to the struts of your mouth
does it smother the flame
can you snuff it out
or does it leave an emptiness
a hole in your chest
from a spear thrown off kilter.
And in the dreaming time
does it sleep behind your eye lid
deflecting the veiled light
like a cornea.
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