C. Murray

and her yellow music caught in the throat of birds

I waited a minute on the wind,
on your roof, outside.

She had been awaiting me in the middle of the day,
having come warm over those seas to find me

high over the little streams and the lakes
she came

and she playing,
and she jumping.
Crying and talking in my ear.

She had carried her warm music over those streams
and over the frail blue flowers that grow on the lakeside.

And you were sleeping soundly.
I left you, I left the city for a little time.

I left the noise of the city, to wait on
the little breeze to bring me news.

and her yellow music caught in the throat of birds

agus a ceol buí a thógail i scornach na h’éanaithe.

 

 

Note:
‘agus a ceol buí a thógail i scornach na h’éanaithe’
is the Irish for ‘and her yellow music caught in the throat of birds’.

 

 

C Murray lives in Dublin and is a stone-cutter and a Committee member of Irish PEN. Her work has been published in various places including Poetry Ireland Review and Crannóg. She writes the Poethead blog: http://poethead.wordpress.com