{"id":12272,"date":"2022-09-06T13:16:43","date_gmt":"2022-09-06T12:16:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272"},"modified":"2024-11-26T20:26:52","modified_gmt":"2024-11-26T19:26:52","slug":"3-poems-9","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272","title":{"rendered":"3 Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"<h2>May<\/h2>\n<p>A maiden aunt, who approached<br \/>\nThose dazzling heaps of white<br \/>\nAs she crossed a field to the well,<\/p>\n<div>Along a worn path<\/div>\n<div>Her nephew followed in June<\/div>\n<div>When the blossom was all over.<\/div>\n<p>I fished obsessively in the river<br \/>\nAnd made her anxious. (She believed<br \/>\nThat the big pool by the bridge<\/p>\n<p>Had swallowed a coach and four.)<br \/>\nNow I\u2019m on her track once more,<br \/>\nWaist-deep in rushes<\/p>\n<p>To fill her white enamel bucket<br \/>\nAnd get it brimming back<br \/>\nTo the scullery cold.<\/p>\n<p>Loose boots across a concrete yard.<br \/>\nWhite spit of my toothpaste<br \/>\nOn silverweed, confusing the hens.<\/p>\n<p>A zinc mug dipped to rinse my mouth<br \/>\nAnd fill, and fill again with may blossom<br \/>\nUntil the month runneth over.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><!--nextpage--><\/p>\n<h2>Swallows<\/h2>\n<p>Traffic of swallows over cow dung in May\u2019s yard.<br \/>\nThe low, dark arrows turned up every summer<br \/>\nTo a nest in the timbers of the byre<br \/>\nWhere they gossiped high in gossamer.<\/p>\n<p>There was a gap at the door where they got in,<br \/>\nWhich I blocked against their orbiting.<br \/>\nThen I swung an empty canvas sack until<br \/>\nI brought one down.<br \/>\nI grabbed it, but my hands had more<br \/>\nThan I could grasp. The fins of a wind-worker<br \/>\nGathered at the shoulder, eye-gleam on ochre,<br \/>\nTheir seeds of knowing overcome by me.<\/p>\n<p>The air was oppressive in that outhouse,<br \/>\nSo I went out to the light and set the wings free.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><!--nextpage--><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h2>New Leaf<\/h2>\n<p>So much fun with pronouns,<br \/>\nBut in the end no certainty<br \/>\nThat any fit.<\/p>\n<p>And what if living stopped<br \/>\nIn the house of optatives,<br \/>\nWhat legacy would be left<\/p>\n<p>Beyond the obvious material effects<br \/>\n(royal mugs, a green vase<br \/>\nof my mother\u2019s, Dad\u2019s flower books)?<\/p>\n<p>Every day now I visit<br \/>\nMy own wood to see<br \/>\nHow wildness structures space<\/p>\n<p>With light and leaves,<br \/>\nAnd learn at last<br \/>\nTo speak a language of the arbitrary<\/p>\n<p>And keep saying it,<br \/>\nBefore a visitor, out of respect,<br \/>\nSteps through the back door<\/p>\n<p>To smoke a cigarette.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>May A maiden aunt, who approached Those dazzling heaps of white As she crossed a field to the well, Along a worn path Her nephew followed in June When the blossom was all over. I fished obsessively in the river And made her anxious. (She believed That the big pool by the bridge Had swallowed [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":375,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[408,405],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v20.2.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>3 Poems - The Manchester Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272\" \/>\n<link rel=\"next\" href=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272&page=2\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"3 Poems - The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"May A maiden aunt, who approached Those dazzling heaps of white As she crossed a field to the well, Along a worn path Her nephew followed in June When the blossom was all over. I fished obsessively in the river And made her anxious. (She believed That the big pool by the bridge Had swallowed [&hellip;]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2022-09-06T12:16:43+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2024-11-26T19:26:52+00:00\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Sean Lysaght\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Sean Lysaght\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"2 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272\",\"name\":\"3 Poems - The Manchester Review\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website\"},\"datePublished\":\"2022-09-06T12:16:43+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2024-11-26T19:26:52+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/dece76ac58504ed4eb9a54bb7b83821b\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12272\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website\",\"url\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/\",\"name\":\"The Manchester Review\",\"description\":\"The Manchester Review\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":\"required name=search_term_string\"}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/dece76ac58504ed4eb9a54bb7b83821b\",\"name\":\"Sean Lysaght\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif\",\"caption\":\"Sean Lysaght\"},\"description\":\"Se\u00e1n Lysaght grew up in Limerick city and now lives in Westport, County Mayo. 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