A poem and photograph from my latest book, Ireland, Place out of Time (2017). Order your copy from Weeping Willow Books. 


In the moss woods

moisture drips upon ancient rocks

my thoughts oblique fire

the pyre beckons

sadness creeps toward my words

your words, our intentions grow

purple with winged birds lifting

red blue orange grief holds us

too close to home, too close to

the spirit that lifts

with your eyes