She writes to me: We only go back as far as our hearts allow*
And a dream of celtic knots tied between two draws me back to a memory of walking through Stones of Destiny, my bare feet sinking into the cool grass of Hill of Tara.
I return to the scene of the climb**
the assemblage of all my deamons dancing
like dandelion seeds adrift in dust devils
The way his voice scooped them away, caught them one-by-one and exchanged them for the pieces of my soul held in Duma na nGiall.
I sit on the mound,
listen to Nantes promise to gamble fright away
watch a field of rapeseed bloom yellow just across the hedge
and I feel the hand of wind brush away the years…
The vision fades with the stars into a flannel grey sky
and I rise early
watching the things that only come out at night go back to bed***
Laurel
June 13, 2024
Nods to *Dorothy M, **Brion B, and ***Scott G
