Texting against the monument
waiting for the meeting
Bells of the tram
Saturday night belles
orange glows and abundant flesh
Hispanic cacaophony of
multiple conversations
and the word of God
in a lazy Louth drawl
souls to be saved
from weekend sins
summer reflections
glinting on the spire
and in the shadow of 1916
sheltering in faint echoes
of proclamation
under the porticoed
pillars of society
are the sleeping bags
filled with the forgotten.
Ciaran Burke
