A Wexford Church

Stones made this church in dismal lack of grace
Dull windows. Leaden threads between the telling glass
A man in Robes reels off ferocious lies
As though we could believe the piffle and the farce
He feels the power to declare
I had to leave for air..where nature stiff with moss
Was cold; sharp blades of trees against the sky.
Clouds hanging dark and troublesome
Uneasy in the air.

Kristine Byrne 2013