Wake: Up to Poetry
Poem of the Week
This week’s poem is by Caitriona O’Reilly, whose poems are featured in our recent anthology, The Wake Forest Book of Irish Women’s Poetry. Last fall, the Wake community was offered the opportunity to listen to Caitiona, along with Rita Ann Higgins, Eilean NiChuilleanain, and Leontia Flynn, as the Women’s Anthology tour kicked off in Winston-Salem. This semester, Wake got lucky again: Caitriona is teaching a course here on Creative Writing!
This poem is from The Wake Forest Book of Irish Women’s Poetry.
Magnetic winds from the sun pour in
and send our instruments akimbo.
Nothing runs like clockwork now.
As skeletal clouds unwreathe our exposure,
panicky citizens climb ladders to hammer
their roofs on harder. A crackle of static,
and the world’s fat face is in shadow.
There are swollen nests under the eaves,
each with a staring cargo: six bronze bibs,
six black-masked, African birds. They dip
and snap the last bees up. A million Ms
foregather with a million others on the sky.
This is the shape that memory takes.
For days they practise flying, then they fly.
Posted by Amanda