Kilmurry Village Sept. 11th

Shrouding vines veil outer walls

And the door plaque reads Thirty-Three.

My wrist watch ticks and the wind calls,

But there’s nobody here except me.

 

Outside looks a bit lonely,

A bit vacant, a bit rusty.

Wishing and hoping, but I know I’m the only

One seeing invisible forces so gusty.

 

A phone call!: Friends are on the way

Back to Kilmurry! Sheets of whipping rain

Dissolve smoothly into a warm sun ray

That splay on my desk through the window pane.

 

Finally, this boredom has reached a finale.

Though I’m ready for a nap, I just might rally!

[The sign-up line for the 2-day trip to Dublin this weekend was cut off about 30 people in front of me.  So while 95% of my friends got on the trip, little ole me was left behind with just this poem to show for my entire weekend.  Don’t worry though, with the help of nice weather yesterday, the internet, and a good book, I survived :)]

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