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One more poem for April, a poem that I wrote during the year I spent in Dublin:

Midnight on a Bridge Over the Liffey

Heartsick and half-afraid, I stumble over difficult cobblestone
and unto more solid concrete.
The river is calling me.
The Liffey is calling me,
under the lights of Dublin.
I reach its precipice and
find myself on the edge of falling -
its turmoil has caught me up,
and I’m churning and churning -
I wrench myself away, force opposing force,
until I am breathing on the bridge.
But the voice of the river -
it still whispers seductively along my skin,
it still thuds drumlike in my ears.
River water runs in my veins,
mixing with warm blood;
I hear my ancestor’s voices join with the river’s,
and they are singing.

Half a city away, buildings are quiet.
Half a city away, people are in bed.

But I - maybe numb from the cold -
I am illuminated.



Thanks to everyone who commented on mine or other people's poetry! I've enjoyed this month tremendously.

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ekaterinn

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