Matt Mooney. Born in Kilchreest, Co. Galway. Living in Listowel. His collection ‘Droving’ was published in 2003 and ‘Falling Apples’ in 2010. His poems have appeared in ‘Feasta’, ‘West 47′ , ‘First Cut’ ,The Applicant’, The Galway Review. Ranked in top 30 in Poemhunter contest.
There is nothing left behind
Of our evening’s get together
But the candles lighting
For the congregated
Who have just vacated
The tables in white linen
And the waltzing is all over
In the room of great windows
Looking down on the river-
An arc around the racecourse
And its ripe and ready meadow
Waiting for the balers’ coming
To change its profile picture
And make it all the better
To be seen by others later
From this treasury of memories
Of fair maidens and tall mirrors.
I am the herald of the morning.
It was I who kissed your brow;
I saw the shadow of the night
Steal away to make room for me
With the waning moon on its back
And carrying a bagful of dreams-
Unfinished, to be returned tonight.
Fly with me now up into the sky
To daub it with the streaks of dawn
Borrowed from the sun that’s rising.
The Steel Fixer
There was a poem fixed in his head
But that is not exactly what he said
To me in the communal sitting room
Christmas Eve in the nursing home-
What had to be said he would write
When the words he needed arrived.
A man who had prayed to the Muses
For a way to break through to speak
About the steel of a steel fixing man
Seeing in his everyday interweaving
A web of words with some meaning
That he hopes will soon fall into line.