Stone
Eugene O'Hare
i am a lonely stone.
the autumn shaves onto
my bare back. winter
breaks ice on the ridge
above me
or silences me
into cushions of snow.
i listen to the movement
of spring down here
on my flat front. in
summer i am accused
with heat; unpardoned
by the insisting sun.
sometimes there is dancing
on the shingle: a blind crab
who has mistaken me
for his lost wife
and cannot sleep
another night alone.
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Eugene O'Hare's plays are published by Methuen. Recent poems have featured in Crossways, Poetry Village, Fortnight, Honest Ulsterman and The Galway Review.
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