Brigid’s Day, again.
The day I have decreed the first
of my New Year.
January’s too austere
for new beginnings,
even with the solstice done to dust
the light is low,
the air is chill and damp
and I am curled and simply static.
Far away, the air
is humid with the notes of birds, patterned
beneath fabrics of the sun
yet there too is a room
like this one, darkened, cooled and still,
there you lie.
Gone, like the cowl
of frost that rimed the blazing dawn
this Brigid’s Day, again.
© Padhraig Nolan
(Author's note: Brigid’s Day refers to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imbolc)
Padhraig Nolan is an Irish writer and native of Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford, who now lives near Dún Laoghaire, where he works as a graphic designer, illustrator and visual artist. His poems have been published in a range of journals in Ireland and abroad. Padhraig exhibits his illustrations and paintings regularly, and was the featured artist in The Pickled Body - Issue 2.2: Loaded/Unloaded. Read a recent interview with him, at Studies in Arts and Humanities.