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A SOFT DAY IN SCOTLAND

 

It’s a soft day
That’s what Grand Dad called misty days
like this
It’s a soft day
from this hill
where I stand
The gray Church scolds me
Next Sunday.
I whisper
Next Sunday.
I want to roll down this hill
of thick Scottish grass
like I did as a child
but the grave stones
at the bottom
stop me
I walk
reverently
through the Cemetery
stopping
to read
forgotten names
and Crossing myself
when one cold gray stone
just reads “Infant”
a lone primrose stands watch
It’s a soft day
and the mist Baptizes me
I walk slowly
up to the top
of the grassy hill
The gray Church welcomes me
I Cross myself
and roll down .
Kathy Keogh.Image may contain: sky, cloud, grass, tree, outdoor and nature
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TONGUE

 

She bites her tongue
when she wants to speak her mind
She’d like to pack a bag
and just leave this all behind
Fear is her companion
and Anger is her child
She’s lost her voice
handcuffed her choice
and it’s too long since she’s smiled

Her shoe laces tied together
so she remembers not to run
Living in his shadow
dreams of dancing in the sun
But dreams without intention
is just paper with no pen
She wants to run
She wants to scream
so she bites her tongue again.
Kathy Keogh

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ANCIENT STONES

 

My heart is ringed with Ancient Stones
in two concentric circles
One of large Sarsan Stone
the other of smaller Bluestone.
With each beat of my heart
the Bluestones ring
vibrating
the three sounds of “Om”
I am the silence that surrounds me
My heart is ringed with Ancient Stones.
My heart is ringed with Ancient Stones.
My heart is ringed with Ancient Stones.
“Om”
Kathy Keogh.

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THE NOTE

 

Right now
I wish
I was in 3rd grade
so I could pass you a note
and tell you that
I like like you
My face would blush
and I’d hold my breath
as you read my words
Right now
I wish
Right now
I wish
Right now
I wish
you’d pass
a note to me.
Kathy Keogh

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HOW TO FIX A BROKEN HEART

 

I know you’ll deny it
but I watched you
knock it off its pedestal
Now my heart
lay in pieces on the ground
I’m not shocked
to find yours
intact
a scuff mark maybe
Mine broke its fall
You get a broom and dust pan
and begin sweeping up the rubble
“WAIT!”
comes from the part of my chest
that holds deep guttural sounds
I think the Irish call it keening.
“I can put it back together.”
You pretend to tie your shoe
and pick up a small piece of my heart
and slip it in your pocket
I google “How to fix a broken heart”
A Bee Gees song comes up
and a lot of nonsense about “time”
gathering up my shattered heart
I lay them on the table
Like pieces of a puzzle
I put them where they belong
As I fit the top right piece to the right side
a tear falls
and like glue fuses it
After many tears and “time”
my heart is almost whole
Perhaps someday
you’ll come back
and give me the piece
you took
Kathy Keogh.

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RAGTIME SOUL

 

I have a ragtime soul
With its ragged rhythm
and syncopated beats
a little out of step
unexpected
hard to dance to
My strong bass notes
anchor me
and the chords on the weak beats
let me fly
I have a ragtime soul
A rhythm believing in meter
and a melody denying
meter even exists
No Jazz here
Catch the swing!
Kathy Keogh

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