Publishers of Irish Poetry and Drama

Poem of the Month

That Cottage

That cottage
one of thousands
and thousands
sitting alone
below the mountains
below the hills
behind the trees
along the lakes
ticks away
like a clock inside my head;
the sound of the alarm;
the kettle boiling;
the man on the stick
at the gate waving;
and the wife out
on the Woman’s Road
setting flowers.

 

Loneliness gathers.
Here we are.

 

by Dermot Healy
The Travels of Sorrow (24 April 2015)

Dermot-Healy-by-Dallan-Healy