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David Doyle: Galway Rain

October 24, 2016 by PBQ

The swilling drips 
jump from roofs and trees, 
clapping their hands, stomping their feet, 
glowing like firework embers 
at cathedral heights down, 
down to the limestone spatter of 
funerals in motion.  
 
And soon the dam exhales particulate spit 
like a drunkard at a foul memory, 
and the river hisses hot smoke 
and smolders with the cinder sprinklings of firefly romance 
beneath the flutter of the softening night, 
inarticulate except in its drift 
that carries the country across itself and does 
not rise until every naked stone knows the 
wet mouth of the sky. 

Filed Under: Contributors 94, Issue 94, Poetry, Poetry 94 Tagged With: Contributors 94, David Doyle, Poetry, Poetry 94

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