Thursday 2 April 2009

POEM AT DUSK

THIS MOMENT
.
A neighbourhood.
At dusk.

Things are getting ready
to happen
out of sight.

Stars and moths.
And rinds slanting around fruit.

But not yet.

One tree is black.
One window is yellow as butter.

A woman leans down to catch a child
who has run into her arms
this moment.

Stars rise.
Moths flutter.
Apples sweeten in the dark.
.

Eavan Boland


1 comment:

Antoin said...

I like it.