BENEATH ASH LEAVES
The wall. Sandstone. Ivy. Patterned bark meandering.
Sun beyond. Shining through ash leaves.
This is a small graveyard called Killysuggan. No one
comes. But the light comes. Ash leaves held to the sky.
Wind across ash leaves is conversation starlings
understand. And the dead perhaps. Hugged to the dark earth.
I see the cliffs of the sky through a narrow gap
between ash boughs. Sluiced open by the wind branches
and leaves can yield sun enough to blind me.
Shadows in the walled corner under elderberry.
Stirring in fuschia. Lurking behind honeysuckle. The dark
crescent of a swift's body spirals beyond the branches.
Boughs break the light. Leaves cup and tremble with it.
The shady corner is tense against it. Shadows inhale.
Beyond Killysuggan the sky stoops to leave her golden
staff low on pediments of cloud. The gate scrapes
shut. The latch falls into its rusted groove.
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