PEOPLES(For Lyn)
She gathers
the world
into her
consciousness
holds its facts
like a beautiful blue
bunch
of wild flowers
clutched
tightly in her tiny fist.
All is alive
to her
whether it be sky
cloud or river...whatever.
Nothing is ever
only a thing.
Everything
is
“...peoples! ”
We visit & re-visit
the old pond
full of
“frog peoples”
who greet her
ecstatically
as if
she were one of their own.
She waves regally.
Speaks to them
fluently in frog.
Even stones become
“...the stone peoples! ”
She likes them
[...] Read more
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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