Poem Of The Month: January 2015
Sounds of closing time ring out from the garage floor court
the dog groans in her sleep at the distant sound of tyres
spinning wildly in circles on the tar. Someone’s idea of fun.
Reading late into the night the air gets colder just before dawn.
In the company of birdsong; they care not for time on a clock
out do each other in a frenzy of thrills, defending territories.
They seem to snooze very little as night blends into day yet
songs of the scolding black bird in the undergrowth
sends me over the mountain to sleep; eventually.
Image by Adam Rudden
You can read more of Aine's poems in her new collection "Landscape of Self".
Copies are available to purchase below.