“Death was in the atmosphere. Only the yellow weeds in the meadow were excited by living.”

wpid-img_20150315_094732.jpg

“Oh to be in Doonaree, with the sweetheart I once knew
To stroll in the shade of the leafy glade where the rhododendrons grew
To sit with my love on the bridge above, the rippling waterfall
To go back home, never more to roam, is my dearest wish of all”

Eilish Boland

the day awakes early this time of year with birdsong and the sound of what we once called lorries slowly turning left toward Dublin, the rev of their engines increase as they pass our bungalow at the top of the town and we hear the morning alarm, aware its either time to get up or stay in bed a little longer.

Some of us decide to make covfefe and others dream of the lottery and their truth that someone else will prepare it.

looking out the window of the good room, opposite the old church, itz clear the town is quiet this time of now. It’s empty. The business houses lie vacant, and nobody walks the streets. Cars approach the red hall and turn south toward Metropolis, and the news of election goes unnoticed in the background and the town takes itz time to rise as the BIG clouds of Cavan pass by.

by nine nothing mutch has changed. The HGVs continue to rumble south on the left hand side offa wide church street and the country cars of Enniskeen maintain their exodus and i’d like to think i’m happy i live in Dublin but the truth is i’d rather be at home.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Heritage, Ireland, Music, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s