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| Photographer: Carl Purcell |
The Peat Fire
(Considering Seamus Heaney)
I don't know what I expected--
a smell of old and strange earth
so unexpected, so strong
that my very eyes would tear up
uncontrollably,
my heart tumescent with
thunderstruck recognition
that here, now, I was reunited
with that from where I
through my ancestors sprang
those centuries ago,
here, now, in the land itself
hinted at in my mother's maiden name.
But none of that happened--
the fire whispered,
warming the room
indifferent to my disappointment,
its slight scent joining the others
in the warming air,
as I joined my cousins,
commonly descended from this,
here, now, our
words in flattened, modern accents
our thoughts recognizing only
that the only recognition
possible, desirable,
here, now,
was that of our humanity
Thunder Bay, Ontario
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I first discovered the poetry of retired literacy instructor/freelance writer Peter Fergus-Moore by following a link on Tom Montag's blog. One of Peter's poems, as well as one of Tom's, will be featured in the upcoming September issue of Salamander Cove, around mid-month.
