Margaret Kiernan is 2021 Best of The Net Nominee for Creative Non-Fiction. She writes fiction, non-fiction essay, memoir, and poetry. She has had poetry and prose published, in hardback, in e-book, online. Literary Journals and magazines. She has multiple stories and poems in anthology collections and cultural publications…..
Epistolatory poem
1
Dear departed un-seen
tucked up
in your underworld
clear vessel
blunt breath of
crumbled earth
I remain
fragile myth of
vegetation on the road
to Styx
2
Remember how shops closed church days
no post office telegram runs
only white sock procession
as rainwater glugged in mud
conversations in the head you laughed
now where’s the fun in that
as we raced
beneath that High Kings head
cut into granite
3
Tin cans at the well sat on mottled stone
blessed by whitewash brushes.
Phone boxes with Bakelite receivers
accepted
or rejected copper coins
held for transatlantic sounds
woe-betide any daring interlopers at that
concrete booth painted cream with green
portal to the outside world
draughts swirled around ankles
enquiries about time from a wristwatch wearer
ten o clock was the switchover
throwdown
end of connection.
4
Dear friend, you took the lead at choir practice
stacked the books closed the lid on the organ
I descended quickly from the loft
Joined the fleeing
how we giggled at that man, his Ave-Maria
yelled in bravura
I venerate those simple days
When music sang in trees.
There are Mornings- 2021
Before the day begins to rattle
there is morning
good or awful
distant strains of wind
pedantic sunshine
or mists
or a stray lingering star in
skies with colour
words
at play
no dreary news yet
none on display
grains of sand rush
gush onto shores
perhaps
news of herrings
waves reply
or a morn with a robin pecking
at the porch
crumbs the anodyne
shut the door put on a face
dreams recede like the last
nightmare
The air is a painter’s muse.
©Margaret G. Kiernan