When One Despairs

Some days, let’s admit it,
I tire
of rallying to her defence

I weary of being rooted
here by her bedside
this language
that has been violated
hoping she’ll come around
watching her assiduously
wishing the life back into her again

And when I see
her rotting bones
calcifying
I know that
one day
there will be nothing left
nothing but dust, mute . . .
like myself, come to think of it.

Laethanta Lagmhisnigh

Laethanta Lagmhisnigh

Admhaím corrlá
bím traochta
dá cosaint os comhair an tsaoil

Bím bréan de bheith fréamhaithe
cois leapan
na teangan éignithe
seo
ag guí biseach uirthi
á faire go cúramach
ag impí beatha inti arís

Is nuair a chím
a cnámha lofa
ag cailciú
tuigim
ná beidh fágtha
lá éigin
ach smúit bhalbh . . .

ach an oiread liom féin.