Irish Wake

I know tomorrow,when the world grows steadyand quiet –we’ll close the curtains,mute the sounds of modern life,and stand for a momenthands clasped,hearing the rasp ofbroken footsteps at middayThen, the coffin will travel,with flowers growing oldin the air conditioning ofa herse, with cracked leather seats. For now, we stand round, and drink and eat around aContinue reading “Irish Wake”