Poems and general conversation from Irish poet Michael O'Dea. Born in Roscommon, living in Donegal. Poetry from Ireland. (poems © Michael O’Dea, Dedalus Press, Amastra-n-Galar)
Winter was a single wing
flying to an enamelled horizon.
My words condensed before me
and you, sycamore tree, threw them back,
singing a blackbird's aria.
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