Our October Poem of the Month comes from Justin Quinn’s recently published collection, Shallow Seas.

Regreen

 

Green comes even so
from cracked concrete, bare
black branches. The doe
rocks to the roe-deer.
Pollen everywhere,
on me, even here,

as I walk past the fields, along the road.

Summer’s coming in,
is the track I sing.
Inside a dark inn
the girl who brings my beer
has lots of the spring
in her, oh, even here.

Then I walk towards the fields, along the road.

There are people packed
like leaves through the ground
in each plot and tract,
dozing, year on year,
tossing and turning round
gently — even here

where I walk past the fields, along the road.

These ones sing their airs
from lodgings in the earth,
asking me, who cares,
and who’d like to hear
what they’ve left of mirth
even now and here,

when I walk past the fields, along the road.

I will rot like wood
no matter how I flee.
Still, the day is good.
Old songs learnt by ear
make free, oh, make free
with me — even here

as I walk past the fields, along the road.

 

                                                by Justin Quinn
             from Shallow Seas (September 2020)
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