Home

sickle moon

by Peter Humphreys

in fuschiaed
lanes they
march
at night
within the
sight of
cot and
craw
as
from each
door
light
chinks
then
pours
and
blackened
faces
peer out
at marching
men in
jackets
bright
shouting and
shushing
strange
delights
as they
tramp by
and bats
out fly
the fate
of Ireland
rises
then
dies
beneath
the sickle
moon

08/14/2006

Author's Note: In 1798, a force of French Troops landed near Killala. Combining with local irregulars, the rebels were successful for a time and routed British troops from Mayo. However, the 1798 Rebellion ultimately failed to unite all Irish people, regardless of religion, under the banner of liberty, equality and fraternity.

Posted on 08/14/2006
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 08/14/06 at 06:54 PM

I enjoyed that, nice work.

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)