Brendan.
Brendan…of all the poems of yours
that I have read…
I remember one you wrote
about a Kerry summer lane,
Where colonies of flies
hovered and buzzed
over pats of cow dung.
And now…
Whenever I find myself
walking along a boreen
summer lined with bramble…
thorn and all,
Or across a field of tufted grasses…
I hear those dung crazed flies,
A cappella…loud and full of humming!
The flies…the cow dung
and the summer breeze,
become my Madeleine
dipped in lime blossom tea….
And I think of Proust…
and you…. a poet….
A man of many words…from Kerry.
Kristine Byrne. 7am 18th Oct 2020
Tribute to Brendan Kennelly
Digital Image. Achill…by KB