A Telling

A Telling

The sound of Irish voices

last night, made me feel

nostalgia for an old place

on the coast of Donegal.

 

The sentimental muscle in me

loved the lilting refrain

of men who remembered pain.

And still,

raised a smile and spoke

with precision and wit.

 

How beauty seems to emanate

from the very core of their vocal chords

speaks volumes to the coward in me.

 

Inside the ancient noises

centuries glimmer and stroke

the throat of the teller

with a romance that absolves

the heinous

and the troubles in their souls.

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