'An tOcras Mór' The Great Hunger.



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Forum Home > Poems & Songs Of "The Great Hunger" > A famine Poem....

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Circling like a drowsy herd,

clouds beyond an errant bird

cannot touch the solid hills

that roll down to supple fields.

A Face! A vision of ragged hunger,

skin and bone, surprised me then,

their way blocked by bending grain.

How could hunger happen when

The fields were fertile, the ample rain,

pastures surviving almost anything.

Diverted cattle, pass me foaming,

mashing their fecund, smoking dung between

clotted hooves. I now remember that moment

when my heart became a child's again

as I watched then pass each unique, rare,

heavy tread--roaming immediacy.

Why did I as a child imagine here?

The eerie chain-link of memory, grim

because he let no one near him.

Perhaps that's why I embraced his

views instead. They answer now

those questions he said would make

a heart forever proud to bow.

Caged by a legend, so here now

I welcome the sodden, breathing truth.

From out of that dream of miles and days,

I came at last to the Crooked-Wood.

It was then that they came again.

Came more faces with hollowed

eyes and outstretched hands.

A filthy, meandering crowd

in search of food.

The road before me me decended

into a deep arboreal shade.

I stopped before a signpost

twisted and unanchored

pointing the way to Fore, to Ben:

Here those visions tended

my starting-point,

his cousin Beatrice and her pub.

To be continued......


Kevin A. Fitzsimons

April 6, 2010 at 3:38 AM Flag Quote & Reply

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