Friday, March 17, 2017

Erin Valentine

It was long enough ago
To be still remembered
A few scraps of something holy
Salvaged from the past
For those who wear the cross
But don’t believe in heaven
The boy with the snakes
Turning them into the green
Of spring before the Norsemen came
As if Ireland were the childhood
Of the world as we know it
Its birthday moment
Its point of departure
With its giants and little people
Its dancing into the future

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