Friday, May 7, 2010

Memories, a poem about Ireland

when my mind turns to ireland
i'm going to shower in a spooky space
then rinse my smiling face early
and look out the window for faeries.

i'm going to slip each foot into the same pair of keens
and all the other clothes to shield out the cold
slip them on, over head, and around-
my love will do the same.

i'm going to wink at him and brush my polish hair
into our little euro car, maps everywhere
looking forward to a guinness moustache at lunch
cameras in hand, sheep on every hillside, a day full of sun.

we're going to bounce on the ground in and around castles
graveyards, burrens, bogs, dwellings, mossy fragrances
and i'm going to find the pubs and drink the darkness
go out for dinner and in the hostel before 11.

and i'm going to make memories from remembering
collected hordes of thoughts intertwined like celtic knots
and hugging a curvaceous coastline, wishing
i was setting off on this same journey again.

happy trails, friends
xoxo, Sharon

1 comment:

Blasé said...

You did it without rhyming. Cool!

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