Poems and Poetry

Artist | A Poem by Marie MacSweeney

This woman,
collar locked high
against old wind
in the half hall
of her youth,

but clean words collect
in her head
as she steps
from lost windows
and rooms

to lean towards
the narrow lane,
where she sculpts
a path through briars
to the gate.

Visit Marie at http://mariemacsweeney.com.

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