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from the June 2004 issue

Standing Still for the Night

Cast your dark line
over broken tides.
Blanket the blank spaces.
Stars spring
from your cracks
and the moon rides
in your pocket.

Cast it like shadows
flown from your back.
Take into you
canyon and wood.

Late nights when
we were together
busying ourselves
in barrooms,
I'd enjoy
our ignorance.

Now I wait for our lines
to potentially collide;
you will hear the gossip
that takes away my

For I'm not whole,
nor was I ever clean.
But it's me still:
a woman on the line,
bleached and brittle
like old paper.

Cast your nets overseas
and land on your
shadow. My thoughts
will blow away
the canyon walls
and wind will wheeze

© Nuala Ní Dhomhnaili. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2004 by Brian Crowe. All rights reserved.

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