© Joe Canning 2018. All Rights Reserved.
In my mind’s eye I see them.
Fleeing the accursed land of Érin.
The rock roads where hundreds fell;
Hunger, consumption and broken hearts.
Mothers, fathers, clawing at a destitute earth,
Interring the lost fruits of her womb.
A passing exodus, staring, crossing themselves.
Wishing the lost ones safe passage to Paradise.
Hail Mary’s, Our Father’s, Glory be’s;
And Confiteors filling the stenched air.
I hear them quote their Lord;
“Why hast thou forsaken me”?
I feel the wind that cuts them.
The vicious frost that burns them.
Warm evenings becoming cold nights,
That create invitations for the reaper.
Now in my lucidity, I see the green fields,
The tall mountains that court the heavens.
Daisies that beautify the silent meadows,
The beds of a multitude of undiscovered souls.