• Unpublished Poems

Greacen020

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.

Coverage: 
19 Jan
Keywords: 
The blind month
Citation: 
Linen Hall Library, "Greacen020", Northern Ireland Literary Archive, accessed Thu, 12/03/2020 - 11:06, https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/greacen020