In between the river
And the dim distant past
I spent my solitary childhood
In the quaint and murderous valleys
Of this gently wooded townland
Of a long forgotten sub-king
Whose sole remains are earthworks
And ancient brittle thorns
Where I hid from moonlit figures
Silent soldiers of all ages
In the cool sweet mist that rises
Through the rowans and whin bushes
And which sings softly of
Condolences that assure me I am
Dreaming and my mind will shortly
Flutter like the damselflies
That dodge and swerve from bats
And birds and broken swinging branches
That fall between the newly
Planted birches that were
Put there by my father
To rejuvenate this land
Visit Dan at http://www.dantindall.com.
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