Dublin: UNESCO City of Literature / Colm Toibin

if you drive from Wexford to and score fee and beyond edder mind there's a little turn to the left the distal bridge called McMahon bridge only one car can go across at a time across the river slaney if you cross that bridge and then you're on the western side of the slaney and follow the river into the town of enniscorthy but brie hill behind you're going through davidstown you were young as you go down the hill you will have st. John's manner on the right hand side and the river on the right policy the river on the right hand side and just beyond the entrance to st. John's manner there's a house called Lucas park and in that house he's as well should leave this part lived in she's right popular figure in enniscorthy she's a great card player she's an extremely friendly woman I knew the house because a friend of my aunt's called Suchet who was a teacher also lived in the house and also the ground some of the house poor word for time was it was them in the same classes I was in the Christian brothers and in and escorting so I knew the house and I knew the gardens and the orchard hair trees the brambles and obviously in our house and it was noted that one of the daughters of the house Eleanor and had married the palms cancer and it was often pointed out to us as children if there was something about him the paper or a book by him that he was actually married to somebody from the town and a few times we saw him in the town & M so this poem em another cert amber is one of the pawns that is really about his landscape there are other pawns barely promises the country walk or in the wing word because the ring would was the forest em between that road and the slain E and M so he has come back and with his with his wife who's the daughter of the house so he's the outsider and it's come back with her to this which is quite a beautiful house M beside the River slaney so as you go down the hill you can see vinegar hill on the other side and you'll soon come to the correct or sign for the card graveyard where some of the Fenian dead are buried in on bless ground and you're aware that this is a battlefield but it's also as you come down the hill and I knew passel of this park you know also this is a landscape that's what was transformed by poetry this poem is another is called no September dreams fled away this country bedroom raw with the touch of the dawn wrapped in a minor piece here's through an open window the garden draw long pitch-black breaths lay berries apple trees ripe pear trees brambles windfall sweetened soil exhale rough sweetness against the starry slates nearer the river asleep st. John's all toil locked fast inside a dream with iron gates domestic autumn like an animal long used to handling by those countrymen rubs her kind hide against the bedroom wall sensing a fragrant child come back again not this half tolerated consciousness that plants its grammar in her yielding weather but that on speaking daughter growing less familiar where we fell asleep together wait full moth wings blonder near a chair tossed their light shell at a glass and go to inhabit the living starlight stranded hair stars on the still linen it is as though the black breathing that billows her sleep her name drugged under judgment waned and bearing daggers and balances down the lamp lyst darkness they came moving like women justice truth such figures you

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