Poem of the Week

17 Mar

For St. Paddy’s Day some Irish poetry

No Fixed Plans


By Patrick Kavanaugh

There’s a wind blowing
Cold through the corridors,
A ghost-wind,
The flapping of defeated wings,
A hell-fantasy
From meadows damned
To eternal April

And listening, listening
To the wind
I hear
The throat-rattle of dying men,
From whose ears oozes
Foamy blood,
Throttled in a brothel.

I see brightly
In the wind vacancies
Saint Thomas Aquinas
Poetry blossoms
As the first flower of truth.

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Posted by on March 17, 2021 in fiction


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