Poet's Journal

Journal Entries

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How We Love

Your hand in the night before sleep, before waking, patting my hair so lightly, your fingers telling the story of how we love, the song

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Winter and Spring

Life Within Smoke from a chimney, the faint spread of light, cold hand of winter on bare trees, thorns exposed on the flowerless rose; life

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The Mission

Ireland, 1919 Shaking him from sleep they came in the night, rain falling off their wet clothes like the sky he’d soon be under. “We

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Drowning the Memory

What fool would listen to ghosts beside the river, the shades of ancient trees, of badger and wolf when proud buildings fill the waterfront, roads

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Poems