What you said to bring
was a chime of nesting wrens in my pocket
a brush of your flint feet searching for spark
the eyes of your night over me
and the dog star in every September.
I had not forgotten
an octave in the intonation of your gaze
a dragonfly hovering on your breath
the crowded heat from a public hanging
and your love in the pattern of a painted lady.
In the quick of our hearts
I brought nothing they would find
and I carried on my body
only what you said.
Niall Scully is from Carlow. He was a 2025 recipient of a Freedom to Write project award. Upcoming publications include Mayo Book press for a bog themed anthology. Other publications include Black Cat Poetry, Wee Sparrow and Spellbinder and shortlists include Butchers Dog, Stinging Fly and Ragaire.
More work by Niall Scully
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