The Weir At Lucan
In their coloured anoraks
I see young people canoeing
swinging their oars as they cut and dip
into the frothy waters.
Around me, daffodil bulbs
shoot stalks out of damp earth,
and falling water clears my head
of office banter and tedious days.
Copyright © Mary Guckian | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment