• Unpublished Poems


The Blind MOnth

November fills bridges, streets and even country lanes
With yellow vapours, blows on the tired heart
A chill reminder of the year’s decay,
shunts fog into the throat, fog into the mind,
Blankets desire, outlaws blood's summer riot.
Now the October rust-red and charred-brown days recede
Into the calendar, traceless though kind-scented,
All fullness frosted, all richness raided.
November, month of the dead, month of shadows,
Month of the year's betrayal, our invocation
Is a hoarse mouthing to the misty gods
For a single sign, for one grey dove on attic roof,
For affirmation of light in this blind month.

19 Jan
The blind month
Linen Hall Library, "Greacen020", Northern Ireland Literary Archive, accessed Sat, 04/20/2024 - 09:05, https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/greacen020