On the Famine Ridges, Garrafrauns, County Galway

For Austin and Áine Cunningham and Family.

The swirl of a morning mist revealed them
Close in together. By one, by two
‘pended across a flitch of a field
- a hard wrought stone strewn mire

Weak shadows moving up shallow trenches
angry fists beating the anvil earth
Empty bellies giving poor counsel
in their kitchen - the hunger hearth

Stark ration scoured faces gathered
Mouthing a futile hymn
"Bia, Dia, Bia" their prayer
Whole parishes perishing

Last-born planted like seedlings
A crop they were fain to sow
Old ones shunned poor-shares and wandered
bequeathing each curséd row

Left furrows watered with mother's tears
from the bitter harvest's well
Ridges blooming with desperation
by Jude's October bell.

Sun summoned to sleep. They drift back
anchored to earth's embrace
Coffined by dead roots and branches
condemned by time and place

On uncut flags the lark laments
these wraiths where they shelve their bones
A shroud of bog cotton their raiment
their monument - a tumble of stones

*Food, God, Food

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