How is it that Eve always gets
the Angel’s share
I see oxblood seep from her
half opened mouth
as she sinks her teeth
into a Persian Prince
while a peahen hides her shame
in the shade of an apple tree
lioness and deer
curled up at the feet
of the First Lady of Eden.

Dreaming of Annaghmakerrig

The bird who lives in the chimney is without peer
at the Tyrone Gutherie Centre, Annaghmakerrig
as are the fresh growth of bluebells,
rhododendron petals that flutter onto gravel,

the silver of the lake away from the shade of conifers
the quick step of the jogger
the returning walker
afternoon light on drumlins

copper beech with it’s oxblood leaves
the design of branches
a persistent wasp
or the distant buzz of freshly cut grass.


Colette Nic Aodha

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