Crannog / No - Crannóg

Crannóg No 7 winter 2004
Epiphany Mary O’Rourke
Suddenly, with a new insight
She rejoiced at her own sense of wonder.
She had always looked at children and envied them.
They did not pretend, they just were.
She had always sensed that she was more like them.
A shiny stone, a blue sky with feathery clouds,
A flower, a weed, had always delighted her.
She did not share her pleasure with adults:
They might think her childish and mock.
Now she appreciated that sense of wonder
And knew it brought her freedom.
She would never be lonely or bored,
There would always be stone, sky, flower and weed.
Stretch Nuala Ní Chonchúir
There’s a stretch of time
reaching behind that’s
as taut as a length of cat-gut,
it threads right through you,
stitched as snug as the baby
who made a drum of your belly,
it holds you to that moment.
There’s a knot in the line,
no pulling hand over hand
can un-kink to drag you to here,
you’ll stay where we left you,
under the late December sky,
that spilt white light like
the ooze of cut raw potato.
Page 38